The Reformation of Kyle Broflovski
by Faery Goddyss
Summary: When Stan transfers to Kyle's college to be closer to him, he finds Kyle has become increasingly cold, distant, and secretive. The closer Stan comes to uncovering the secret, the farther away Kyle seems... COWRITTEN with Indiana Beach Bum. SLASH. COMPLETE
1. I The Beginning

**Summary**: When Stan transfers to Kyle's college to be closer to him, he finds Kyle has become increasingly cold, distant, and secretive. The closer Stan comes to uncovering the secret, the farther away Kyle seems...Cowritten with Indiana Beach Bum. SLASH  
**Warnings**: Swearing, boys kissing boys, maybe some violence in the future.  
**Disclaimer**: We don't own South Park.  
**AN**: Hello! This is a new sort of style, for both IBB and me, for reasons you'll find out eventually. As IBB has said when it comes to _The Reformation_,"think less romantic comedy and more Donnie Darko." It's your only clue for the nature of this story. Updates are going to be a little on the sporadic side since we're both busy bees but rest assured the story will be completed! Read on dear readers and let us know what you think!

**The Reformation of Kyle Broflovski **

**I.** The Beginning

I stare uselessly out the window, beginning to count the number of trees that we have passed. It's been a little under a half hour, and I'd say Kenny has spoken less than five words to me. I knew it was gonna be hard on him, me transferring schools and all, but I didn't really think he'd take it like this.

"Dude, I'm only going to be an hour away," I start quietly.

I know he's heard what I said due to the slight clench in his jaw and the tightening of his hands on the steering wheel, but he doesn't respond and I turn my head again, attempting to make eye contact. He hasn't looked at me once either, which is making me feel guilty. I mean, we both knew this day would happen. I've been saving up my money for too many years to waste my life on the stupid community college. Besides, what can go wrong at a place called Jackson Vanderbilt College? I feel like I have to wear a suit just to get in the doors.

Kenny sighs softly, and I know its cause he sees me looking at him. I shift my focus to the dashboard and the speedometer, noticing that his piece of shit car doesn't even have a speedometer. I can't make fun of it though…I don't even have a car. I sold my baby for some more money for college. I figure that I can always hitch a ride with Ky to get back to good 'ole South Park for the holidays. And we're only an hour away…so it's not like I can't convince Ken to pick me up.

"Kenny, come on man…we can see each other every fucking day if we wanted to!"

I look at him again and he's nice enough to avert his eyes to glance at me briefly before staring back ahead at the long stretch of road. He's avoiding me, just like he has been all week. This past semester has been awesome for us, friendship wise. We've never been closer…but that's due to Kyle being so far away. I think I pissed Kenny off with my excitement of transferring to JV College. He didn't think I'd leave in the middle of the year. Part of me thinks he's jealous over the fact that I'm getting out and he's not. Part of me thinks he's jealous because Kyle's gonna be my best friend again.

"Dude…you okay?" I ask him, already knowing that answer.

"I'm fine," he answers, short and definitely _not_ "fine." I hate when he gets like this.

"You know Ken, you can visit Kyle and me anytime."

Kenny raises his eyebrows slightly, but his eyes remain glued to that road. "I know, I just don't see…why," he stops as if he's too angry to continue on. "Why you have to go to Kyle's college. What's wrong with staying at South Park Community College with me? Am I not good enough for you?" He asks bitterly causing me to sigh and shift uncomfortably. "Besides what's the point in visiting an all guys college? I won't get any action…" He mutters the last bit more to himself.

I ignore the comment. "You know it isn't like that, it's just…"

"Kyle's your best friend, and I'm just your friend. Got it, thanks for the clarification Stan."

I sigh and look out to where he's looking, because Kenny's damn close to the truth. After all, saving up to transfer into Kyle's school later _was_ the plan all along, I just never got around to informing him of that.

The rain has become increasingly steady, though in the beginning it was on and off. It's still just a light drizzle, but enough to make me feel sleepy and uneasy. I should be _happy_ that I'm moving in with Kyle.

I _am_ happy I'm moving in with Kyle. It's Kenny who's bringing me down.

"Dude cheer up!" I yell, wishing he wouldn't try so hard to make me feel bad.

At this, Kenny turns to me. "I'm cheered. See?" He fake smiles, which just pisses me off, and then turns back to the road.

"Look at me, Ken," I demand.

"I gotta see the road to be able to get you there, Stan," he explains, sounding slightly irritated.

"Do you always gotta be so Goddamn difficult…"I mutter. "Do you want to part on bad terms Kenny, we can do that you know. I can spend every waking moment thinking only of Kyle and this new college and not an ounce on you. I _was _going to call you every few days but if you're going to be –"

"I get it," he interrupts. "Excuse a guy for being upset over the fact his best friend's leaving him for another friend."

I growl. I am _not_ leaving him. I'm just...moving farther away. Hell, I'm moving closer to _my_ best friend, and I can't let Kenny see the smile that's forming on my face at that thought. Instead, I close my eyes and take a deep breath. This fight is stupid. I don't want Ken to be angry when he moves me in.

From the sounds of it, Ky's got a pretty bitching set up. I wouldn't know, since I've never actually been over there yet.

...Come to think of it, I wonder why he hasn't directly invited me. Being that we ARE only an hour away, you'd think the guy would miss me enough to invite me up. But it's always been him coming back to the Park. When I've questioned him about coming over he always shrugs me off and changes the subject, but, whatever, we'll be together soon anyway.

Before then I need to focus back on Kenny and getting him to come to terms with this. I am moving in with Kyle and that's the end of it. "Kenny," I start up and he finally gives me a clean hard look.

"I know Stan, drop it okay? Like you said, we don't want to part on bad terms."

I frown at him and watch him turn back to the road. It's pretty hard not to part on bad terms when he's pissed off at me. "Hey," I start again lightly, "remember that time we went to a strip club to get me a girlfriend and instead we got drunk off our asses and ended up dancing on stage?"

He snorts slightly, "yeah, so what's your point?"

"My point is those are _our_ memories, no Kyle involved, all us."

"And with you to Preppy College USA, we won't be _making_ any more memories will we?" he bites back, and I can almost hear him snarl. Damn.

I throw my head back onto the seat and sigh loudly. "You want me to stay in shitty South Park? Is that what you want?" As soon as I say that, I regret it. Because the look he gives me is cold enough to send me crawling back home. And if I had a tail, it'd be between my legs.

"Stan, you can have fun at school. I don't fucking care anymore. We've had our fun, and now that you have the real Kyle, I can stop pretending to be his replacement."

"You aren't his replacement, dude!" I cry, exasperated. Jesus Christ, I feel like a whole semester's worth of feelings are erupting on me at once.

"Then what exactly am I?" He responds icily, almost gritting his teeth together.

I hesitate momentarily as I figure out how to answer without getting him worked up, "…you're a close friend."

"I'm a close friend said after an awkward pause? That's nice."

"Well shit Ken what do you want me to say?" I bite back at him. I'm tired of fighting, and I'm tired of him trying to guilt trip me.

"What do _I _want you to say?" He shakes his head in disbelief and I eye him curiously as he pulls off onto the shoulder, stopping the car to look directly at me. "What I want to hear from you is that even though you're going back to Kyle's side like the good dog you are – don't interrupt me." He cuts me off before I have the chance, "that even so you're going to miss me. Why do _I _have to ask you to say that? God, you can be such an inconsiderate bastard."

With that he pulls back onto the highway, and I'm left staring at him. He always manages to guilt trip me. But really, that's all he wanted me to say? I didn't think I needed to say it, I figured he'd just know.

"Ken, of course I'm going to miss you," I say, hardly able to believe that he might think otherwise.

He snorts, "don't say it because I want you to."

"I'm not! I will miss you, why would you think I wouldn't?"

"I never said I thought you wouldn't…but you know, a person likes to hear these kinds of things," he responds looking over his shoulder to check his blind spot before changing lanes.

"Yeah…well, I will dude. It's gonna be weird not hanging out every few days."

"I thought you said I could come by every fucking day if I wanted to?" He asks raising a brow at me and I'm quick to respond.

"You can dude."

"Stan," he sighs. "I'm not driving here every day. I have other things to do you know." I nod my head understandably, "but…" he presses on getting my attention once more. "I can call every so often, if it doesn't like…cut into your Kyle time or whatever."

"You won't be, but I'll let you know if you are," I tease.

Kenny doesn't look amused but he nods lightly. "Hey I wonder what kind of music is in the airspace around here," I watch as he happily flicks on the radio and goes through the stations, stopping on one near the end of the FM. "Dude, I _hate _this song, and what sucks is it's so fucking popular, so I have to hear this guys whine he likes to call a voice all the time," Kenny continues to babble as I try to understand what just happened.

"Wait…" I turn down the radio. "Are we cool, or…?" I trail off leaving the sentence open for him to correct me.

After giving me a quizzical look he nods, "yeah dude we're cool, you shouldn't linger on fights man, not good for you," he answers before turning the music back up and drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

"What the hell?!" I turn the radio back down again and he gives me an annoyed look as I glare back. "You were the one bitching and moaning just a few seconds ago!"

The annoyed look falls from his face and he smirks knowingly. Before I get the chance to question him on that look he glances ahead and points, "dude, we're here."

It takes probably four seconds for his words to register in my brain, and like that, my attention is diverted to what lies ahead of us. The large steel beams that construct a rather plain sign that reads "Jackson Vanderbilt College: Established 1922." I strain my eyes to see past the mist and fog and one by one, the buildings slowly come into view. All of them are the renovated gothic style with the pointed arches and thick gray walls. There is a central building with five or six other relatively large buildings nearby. The dormitories are spread out on each side of the campus in clusters. I can see them in the distance. It all looks ridiculously expensive and well kept.

It's so beautiful though. The closer we drive, the more details I notice. The windows are like double-pained glass, and they have that wavy look to them cause they're so thick. There's a cathedral tower at the top of the central building. It reads "J. Vanderbilt Building" over top the arched doorway, but Kenny drives to the side of it before I can see anything more. The entire campus is lined with sidewalks that lead to and from every one of the buildings, with antique fountains placed here and there for an outdoor garden effect.

I'm pretty interested in architecture, and the few books I do own are over the different styles and movements of the 1900's, particularly the gothic revival period. When Kyle told me about the courses offered in architecture here, it peaked my interest. I started saving my money to pursue that major, and to be near him, of course.

I feel my palms start to sweat as we head past the major buildings on the only main road, which slices the campus in half. I don't know why I'm so nervous, it's not like I haven't been outside of South Park before. I mean, that's what it must be. I'm nervous because I'm about to attend a real school. One with dorms and meaningful classes and everything, one where my best friend will literally be a few feet away from me instead of a few hours. It was torture staying at home when I knew he was getting the whole "college experience" everyone always talks about.

My emotional welcoming of the college suddenly makes me feel extra sorry for Kenny. He's gonna be stuck in the rut of community college due purely to bad genes. He couldn't get enough money to make it even if he saved every penny he made. Somehow the McCormick's are unlucky like that.

I see the envy in Kenny's eyes as he takes in the sights as well. I do feel bad for him, but Christ! He can be such a girl sometimes. What the hell was that earlier? I'm gonna do my best to avoid the subject and hopefully he'll do his best to ignore it. He can't get angry with me because of this. I feel like I've finally made a positive step in my life!

Kenny's car sputters to a stop into a cramped parking spot. He puts the engine in park and I do one last glance-around before stepping out into the drizzle. The sky is different shades of gray, so the buildings are camouflaged. I squint to identify the building in front of us. Windermere Hall. Yep, this is the place. Room 333. I memorized that the first night Kyle called me and told me. With Kenny's permission, I gather my luggage from the trunk, and take off in a half-sprint to get inside.

I swing the door open and wait impatiently for Kenny to follow. He eventually trudges in, carrying a few boxes, my alarm clock, and my mp3 player. I travel lightly. Ky's already got the laptop, the stereo, the fridge, the furniture, and the TV. All I needed were the essentials. Books, underwear, and music.

I dig through my pocket, flip open my phone and give Kyle a ring. A few minutes later, after Kenny whines again about the lack of females, I see a familiar face push open the door to the stairs with a warm smile.

"Hey man," I say with my own smile. He walks over aggressively and brings me to his chest. We exchange a patting on the back before pulling away and just grinning at each other. It's good to see him again.

"God I missed you," he says grinning, before turning to the sulking heap beside me. "Kenny!" He says and attempts to give Kenny a half hug but Ken casts his eyes to the side, clearly uninterested in the greeting. I scowl at him completely annoyed. Being pissed at me is one thing; being pissed at Kyle is unacceptable.

Elbowing him angrily he gives me a harsh glare but he lets it drop. He looks back to Kyle and gives him an easy, though somewhat false, smile. "Hey Kyle," he says simply.

Kyle looks back and forth at us, confusion written all over his face, but I don't feel now is the best time to give him an explanation. He looks as if he might attempt to hug Kenny again, but I do my best to give him a discreet don't-push-your-luck look. He seems to read it pretty well and instead grabs a few boxes from Kenny's overwhelmed arms.

"Here, let me," he says with a smile.

Kenny lets him take them but doesn't offer a thank you, causing a really awkward silence between the three of us that rarely happens. "Well, are you going to show us the room or not? I need to get back home," Kenny questions.

"Oh yeah, right," Kyle snaps back to the task at hand and turns to enter the building, holding the door for Kenny and I to go through. "Up ahead," he starts as he walks through and lets the door close behind him. "Is the main lounge area, there's private and public study rooms, a flat screen, game room, vending machines, things like that. And it's also where the mail room is. I can show you that stuff later. Stairs or elevator?" Kyle questions.

"We can handle a few flights," I say with a nod, excited to see the room. My head had been leaning in every direction that Kyle had pointed out each room, but I can't see much from where I'm standing, but like he said, we can see that stuff later.

Heading up the stairs that are to the side of the building we pass a few other students. Some Kyle says a polite hello to, and others he completely ignores. At one time, near the second floor an intense looking taller blonde guy, probably an upperclassmen, heads down, stopping when he sees us. He glances at me with a raised eyebrow before glancing at Kyle.

"The best friend from South Park I presume?" He asks.

I grin at the thought that Kyle's been talking about me with his friends here, but when I turn to look at him his expression has cooled considerably. "Yes, this is Stan, and the blonde's Kenny, another friend from South Park."

"That's nice," he answers lightly and starts to continue his trek down the stairs. "I'll see you soon Kyle."

"Right."

"Welcome to JV College Stan," he adds lastly, not giving me time to say anything back.

I look at Kyle before noticing that Kenny's eyes are following the guy down the stairs with a frown. "Who's that?" Kenny asks, speaking up without a hint of malice for the first time since we got here.

"That's the President of the student body, Miller, he's also the President of the High Honor Society."

"The High Honor Society?" I question. "That's a bit of a mouthful, why can't they just call it Honor Society like everyone else?"

"Because it's not the same," Kyle snaps at me and I jump at him in surprise. He seems to have realized his overreaction and mutters a calm apology. He plasters on another smile and once we've reached the third floor he pushes open the door and gestures toward the hallway. "Welcome to Windermere three, Stan."

I grin at him, even giving one to Kenny. He finally gives me a weak one back, but he looks a little distracted. Deciding to let him be, I follow Kyle down to 333.

He doesn't bother with a dramatic entrance or a pause for effect. Kyle grips the handle and pushes into the door quickly, and before I can even prepare myself for the room, I'm standing in it.

I've always heard about how cool old dormitories can be, but up until this very moment, I never realized how into architecture I really am. Kenny sighs loudly, indicating his lack of interest. I feel Kyle's eyes on me. I think he's gauging my reaction.

"Told you it was sweet, dude," he speaks up, answering my thoughts. He walks over to the thick, double-pained window and gestures for me to follow. When I get there, he grins and wiggles his eyebrows. "Get ready for the best part."

This raises my curiosity, and I stand dumbfounded as Kyle pushes the window up high enough for a person to fit through. He lifts his leg and straddles the windowsill, looking back at me with intense and daring green eyes. "You're not afraid of heights, are you Stanley?" he mocks in a challenging tone.

I stifle a laugh and push him out the rest of the way so I can do the same. He chuckles back, now outside of the window with feet planted firmly on the roof. I contort my body to fit through the narrow opening, and step out as well. I gawk at what I see, taking in the scenery of the entire campus. Kyle's room has to be just about the most awesome college dorm there ever was. And now it's mine! I'm liking this place more and more.

I turn to face Kyle, whose eyes are squinting to avoid the steady drizzle of rain. He reaches up to scratch his nose, and I study his expression as he looks off coolly into the distance. His eyes lock with someone or something, and that dreamy smile of his fades. He turns toward me. "Let's get back inside." I frown and ignore his request.

"Stan, it's cold. It's raining, my hair is going to frizz."

I groan, faking more annoyance than what I feel, and reluctantly obey. As I follow him back to the inside, my mind swarms with ideas on how to make the most of that rooftop. When looking around, I noticed Ky's room is one of the only few that have direct access to it, and something tells me he's used it for a lot.

"Where's Ken?" Kyle asks, knocking me out of my reverie. As my eyes adjust to the natural darkness of the room, I notice that the box Kenny was holding is sitting on the unmade bed (presumably mine), and the door is wide open. Did he leave?

I casually but hurriedly jog out of the room, glancing both directions and then sprinting in the direction we came to catch up with my friend. I don't know what's going on—he should be _happy_ for me. This is what I want. To be with Kyle.

I sigh and slow down. Maybe this is too much for him to take in one day. I know if _he_ were leaving _me_ to South Park I'd be pissed too.

I turn the corner to the stairs and out pops Kenny, straight from the communal restroom. "This place has showers like a locker room!" he cries, smiling widely. "Have fun getting naked with the dudes, Stan." He pats my back and pushes my shoulders back to the direction of the room.

I smirk back at him as we once again enter my new room. Kyle's hunched over on his bed mumbling something, but I can't quite make it out. It's only then that I realize he's on his phone.

"Count me in," he states. I strain my ears to eavesdrop more, but Kyle promptly shuts the phone and stands up.

"Who was that?" I ask curiously.

"None of your business, Stan," he replies sternly. His eyes narrow just a bit before widening again and a big smile envelopes his face. "Now, what's next?"

I can't help but to give Kyle and odd look. What was that momentary mood swing? He was acting like…Kenny, and yet not at all. Looking over at the blonde I see that he must be thinking the same thing. Kyle hardly ever snaps at me, and when he does it's never been because I've eavesdropped on a phone call. And now that I think about it, in the short time that I've been here he's already snapped at me about three times. Maybe I'm overreacting but I'm starting to think there's something up with Kyle.

-

"Well, look at the time," Kenny speaks up, peering down at his wrist that has a watch that stopped working a few weeks ago. "I better get going."

He stands up from my desk chair and smacks his hands together. "Stan, walk me out?"

I look into his eyes and see this pleading look. For the past three hours, Ken's been noticeably awkward about this whole situation. We finished unpacking my stuff about two and a half hours ago, and we had been watching TV and bullshitting ever since.

"Yeah, sure man," I say standing myself and glancing at Kyle. "I'll be right back."

He nods, understanding that it's better if he stays here. "You should come back next week Kenny," he says to him smiling softly.

"We'll see," he mutters in response. "Later Kyle," he finishes before walking out of the room with me close behind him. We tread through the hallways and back down the stairs together not saying a word. When we get to the front doors of Windermere we both wince at the storm that seems to be brewing. The rains picked up and it's starting to get considerably windier.

"Are you going to be okay in that?" I ask him, ready to offer he maybe spend the night until the whole storm blows over.

"I'll be fine, I have stuff to do tomorrow morning," he responds distantly as he watches the trees whip side to side.

"Yeah, but you can always do it when you get back," I suggest. That car of his might not make it.

He grins. "You sure you just don't want me to stay for you? I know how much you hate storms."

"Shut up," I joke, shoving him and smiling back. It's clear to me he really doesn't want to go, but he doesn't want to separate me from Kyle any longer. Plus I think Ky has been freaking him out with his strange behavior.

"Hm, well I think that's enough of the awkward, don't-know-what-to-say goodbyes don't you?" He raises an eyebrow at me smirking slightly.

"Ken-"

"Hug time!" He announces and grabs a hold of me abruptly pulling me in for a tight, almost desperate hug. Ken pulls away before I can really hug him back, holding my shoulders as he looks me over. "I never thought I would say this but…you take care of Kyle…." Kenny glances briefly off in the direction of where Kyle and my dorm ought to be. "There's something off with him, and I don't like it."

I nod agreeing, as a little bit of worry starts to creep up my spine. "Be careful driving home," I say back to him.

"Yeah, yeah," he says letting go of my shoulders and we step outside the lobby, almost getting swept by the sudden rain. I stay under the ledge, still unable to stay dry, and watch Ken rush to his car.

As he steps into the driver's side and squeaks out of the parking lot, I lift my hand up and wave him goodbye. His car becomes smaller and smaller in the haze the further away he goes, until eventually, the rain swallows it up.

Turning back to the dorm, I practically sprint back inside to avoid the sudden downpour I see coming across the field. When I reach 333, my new home, I see Kyle sitting on the bed with a stiffened back and his hands placed gently on his knees. He is staring out the window to the rain. He says nothing as I enter the room, kick off my shoes, and collapse myself. He says nothing as I flip through my stack of architecture books and place them on the shelf next to my head. And he says nothing when I start twiddling my thumbs and clicking my tongue.

"Dude, what's up?" I finally ask, unable to contain myself any longer.

He doesn't seem to hear me and I watch as he brushes a hand over his lips, as if he's concentrating on something. I follow his gaze through the window, thinking maybe he's seeing something again like it seemed he did earlier. But when I scan my eyes over our view I don't see anything out of the ordinary.

"Kyle?" I question again.

"Ever notice how the rain silences the world around us?" he speaks clearly, and the only part of him moving is his lips. He continues to stare outside.

"Huh?" I reply intelligently. This mysterious side Ky is showing is making me uncomfortable.

"Life quiets down for it. Everything around just pauses and watches it fall. It's peaceful."

I pause, perplexed. I'm sure if he'd laugh if he could see the look on my face. "You're so full of shit, dude." I smile, awaiting his sarcasm.

And, much to my relief, it knocks him out of whatever funk he was in. I see his face brighten up, and he looks over to me. "Its good to have you here, man. I missed you."

My own smile forms, but I realize that it's unsure, "I missed you too."

He looks back toward the window but I'm relieved to see that he isn't getting lost in the rainfall again. "There's so much I want to show you on campus, and I can't wait to introduce to some of the guys, everyone's really laid back here, and the professors here are the best at what they do."

I nod, almost obediently. It isn't that I'm not excited at what Kyle's telling me. It's the exact opposite, I'm ecstatic to get my bearings down and become a real student at JV. It's just…I don't know. This nagging feeling that something isn't quite right about the way Kyle describes this place. I know it must be awesome, there's no way he would have even applied if it wasn't. My thoughts flash back to that guy I met on the stairway earlier. The student body president, and president of the High Honor Society.

"Will I get to properly meet that Miller guy?" I ask.

Kyle's head turns back to me, his face unreadable. "Yeah, you'll like him, he's a good guy. If there's anything I can't answer you about this school he can. He's captain of the baseball team too, and I told him you might want to play ball here."

"…thanks."

But truth be told, I'm not that thankful because that guy, Miller, struck a cord in Kyle, and I'm not entirely sure if I like that.

To this, I see him roll his eyes. "Don't tell me you aren't going to at least _try_ to play some kind of sport here, Stan."

"Huh?" I ask honestly confused.

"Mr. All-around Athlete doesn't think he can make it in the big time league?" Now he's just picking on me. This is much more normal. I bite back.

"Yeah JV is real big time," I joke. "We've got all of what...four buildings?"

"I'll have you know JV is very versatile when it comes to the selection of sports here, Stanley."

I growl at him. "You fucking call me Stanley again, I'll show you how versatile a foot up the ass can be." He chuckles, and that usual green light in his eyes shines through.

Kyle shifts positions on the bed and snuggles up with the pillow like he's ready for me to start story time. "You're gonna be so happy here, man. It's a good school."

It's starting to bother me that he keeps repeating that. I _know_ it's a good school. So, instead I smile back at him. "I'm happy to be here with you."

- **i**_**BB**_ and _**f **_**G**


	2. II The Introductions

**AN: **Thanks for the reviews on chapter one everyone, we love the speculations on Kyle's behavior! We're super excited for this and even though we adored every review...WE DEMAND MORE/coughs/  
**Disclaimer: **IBB and I ask that you please excuse the number of original characters that may come in this story. One (or maybe two) in particular, will be most prominent, and we apologize for giving an "outsider" such a large role. But the boys are not in South Park anymore and it would be completely unrealistic to assume every boy and girl followed Stan and Kyle to the same college. We had to make up people, lest Kyle and Stan be loners.

**The Reformation of Kyle Broflovski**

**II. **The Introductions

"…eternal bond…separate…death does not sep…arate…"

I try to block out the noise but it finally forces me awake and I rub the sleep from my eyes, trying to figure out what exactly is waking me up so early on a Sunday morning. I glance over at Kyle realizing he's muttering to himself in his sleep.

Shoving my covers off my body I stand and walk over to his bed glancing down at him. His red curls cover his eyelids and most of his forehead and if you ignore the weird…it almost sounds like chanting, he'd look completely serene. The way he's breathing softly, wrapped comfortably in a dark green duvet…but he is chanting…something.

Death does not separate? A shudder passes through my body and I decide I've watched Kyle sleep enough. His words are freaking me out and I'm curious as to where he's learned them from.

"Kyle!" I shake him and watch him squeeze his eyes together. "Dude wake up!"

"Death does not- AHHHHHHHH!" He screams deeply and grips my arms tighter than I knew he possibly could. "WHAT THE FUCK STAN?!?" he growls, throwing my hands up and off of him. "God dammit!" He violently turns onto his side and throws the covers away, revealing his bunched up boxers under the sheets.

I stare, unsure of how to respond. Sure, waking up Kyle has proven to be a bitch in the past, but this anger...this intense resentment that I get from the glare in his eyes has never been there before. "Dude...you were...you were saying shit in your sleep, I..."

"...so you fucking wake me up with a goddamn death grip?"

My face scrunches in confusion. "Ky, I was just trying to wake you-"

"Go back to bed, Stan," he mutters, bringing the covers up over his head again. This time, he is completely hidden by them.

I stare bewildered, shaking a little, at the covered mass that is my best friend. What the fuck was that? I wake him from seemingly some sort of cultic nightmare and he gets pissed at _me_?

I may not be Kyle smart, and I might not be Kenny smart, but I have one hell of an intuition. I know my best friend, more than anyone else and I know when he's hiding something from me. I back away slowly knocking into my bed and awkwardly falling back down on it.

I slowly raise my legs and lie my head back down on my pillow looking up at the ceiling. I won't be able to fall back asleep, there's no way. Glancing at the digital clock from the DVD player I can see that's it's still too early to even be thinking about getting ready for the day…but it's not too early where I can't maybe get up and take a walk in the dorm.

Last night Kyle and I spent all our time talking with the television on. Talking about old times and talking about times we hope to come, so he never got around to showing me what the rest of Windermere had to offer. There's a "quiet time" policy with the dorms, Kyle explained to me. But there's no rules against walking around or even going to the main floor to watch TV, or study, so long as you're quiet about it.

Deciding to do that, I pull my sweat pants and a shirt on. I quickly lace my runners and head out the door, only glancing back briefly at Kyle. I wonder if he's fallen asleep already. I doubt it; he was never _that _quick at falling asleep so he must hear me leaving, he simply isn't saying anything.

Closing the door I look down the hallway, noticing how silent it is. I suppose that makes sense with it being three in the morning and all. I head down the way I've gone down before making my way to the stairs to end up on the first floor.

Even though it is so early or late, depending on how you look at it, I'm still kinda surprised that I haven't come across anyone. I mean…it's Saturday night, technically Sunday morning, but I thought college students weren't supposed to know the difference? I figured I'd have at least run into a few drunken guys, but no dice.

The lounge area is pretty big, filled with comfy looking upholstery and I walk through without making a sound. Shit, this place is almost too perfect. There's not even a single creak in the floor. Making a slight left I see that I've come across the private study rooms, which are of little interest to me right now. That is until I notice a light coming from outside of one. It's the only closed door of the little rooms and I wonder what kind of know-it-all is studying late into the night on a weekend that doesn't include cramming on a Sunday night.

Of course I'm not going to bother the guy so I start to walk past it when the door opens startling me slightly. The other guy looks just as surprised to see me but his face smoothes out a lot faster than I'm sure mine did. He gave me a mini heart attack.

"Your Kyle's friend," the guy takes off his glasses and I recognize the upperclassmen from earlier. Miller.

"Yeah, I'm Stan," I reply dumbly. The sheer lack of emotion in the guy's face is overwhelming.

"My name is-"

"Miller. Yeah, I know already," I say, weary of him for no good reason. He looms in front of me, not shutting the door and not walking any closer. I almost want to extend my hand to shake his but am unsure of how to even do so.

"Kyle speaks very highly of you," he states flatly. And then, I swear, he looks me up and down, sizing me up. As if what Kyle said is something to question.

Still, I can't help but smile. I know the things I say about my best friend. What does he tell people about me?

"Yeah, what does he say?" I question, trying to sound as casual about it as I can.

"This and that, nothing in particular, though Kyle is rather fond of your…loyalty. Any reason for wandering the building so late?" He asks changing the subject.

"Oh…" I trail off. "Kyle and I had a small fight."

I can't help but notice how Miller's interest seems to have peaked, but even so his face remains neutral.

"Kyle doesn't seem the confrontational type," he says flatly. Nothing about his character is particularly interesting. He barely shows emotion, and his voice is monotone as hell. It's getting annoying.

"No, he doesn't," I agree, finding myself mildly irritated. "Which is why we got into a fight."

I know that makes no sense but whatever. Miller doesn't need to know about us, and I don't care to spend more time with him. He sizes me up once more and I almost flip him off but instead resist.

"I'm gonna head back up there now," I respond lightly. As I turn, he reaches out and wraps his large hand around my forearm. The muscles underneath his fingers flex as I turn around, scowling.

"Kyle tells me you like to play ball?" he tries coolly. This time, his tone is softer. His grip loosens and he awaits my response.

"Yeah," I respond, yanking my hand away from him and back to my side. "He said you were captain?"

"Mh hm, he put in a good word for you, describing your talent, said it was natural."

"Yeah?" I brighten at the thought.

"Indeed," Miller smiles and I grimace at it. Not because it's deranged or anything but because I didn't think someone like him capable. "Kyle said you're a pitcher?" I nod silently.

"Fascinating, I don't suppose he mentioned that I am as well?"

I can't help but to clench my arms to my side, "he didn't, no."

Miller smirks and places his glasses back on. "Practices are Wednesday evenings at seven in the evening, you ought to come and try out. We could use another _relief _pitcher. Have a good evening Stan."

I growl under my breath, but I don't think he notices. A relief pitcher, huh? I'll show _him_ relief. "Later," I mutter.

I back away, still staring at the guy, unsure of why he gives me the creeps. Perhaps it's the icy cold stare I see behind those thin wire frames. His eyes, I notice, are this really intense blue…the kind that Kenny's would be if he hadn't died so much earlier on in life and lost a part of his lively spirit. And those eyes are definitely piercing through me as I continue to observe him.

He issues a brief smile—one that shows no friendliness whatsoever, but rather this "It's on" vibe. Or maybe that's how I feel. Cause if that guy is the star pitcher, it's gonna be on. This school hasn't seen a star pitcher yet.

Wait a minute…since when have I wanted to play ball here? When did I _ever_ think about even trying out?

Ever since Kyle mentioned it. Or since he put in a good word for me. I couldn't let him down by not even trying. And we both know that if I try a little, I'm going to be the best. That's the "natural" thing he was talking about.

I sure as hell could wipe the floor with that prick Miller. I turn away from him after I smirk back, but not before I get a good, hard look at what this guy is made of. He's taller than me, probably about the same height as Kyle, maybe a little shorter. So what, that makes me the fucking understudy pitcher? He probably thinks he's all perfect with his blonde hair and broad shoulders. He may be good looking, but he doesn't have an ounce of the Stanley brand patented charm.

I _hate_ guys who think they're so tough cause they're older and taller than you. I've had to deal with that all throughout life. It kind of faded the older Ky and I got. Mostly because he was ridiculously tall once he started growing, and I was nothing but muscle from playing every sport under the sun. Kyle's height slowed down near our junior year, and since then he's stayed steady at 6'3". I'm barely 6', but I tell people I'm at least 6'1". It's more intimidating and…manly. No girl wants to be with a short guy. Probably why I never have a real steady girlfriend.

I head straight for our room before I can find any other late night stragglers. Fuck it; it's too early in the morning for this. I'm going back to bed.

Heading back to the room I now share with Kyle I'm careful to be sure I open the door slowly. I don't want to chance waking him, especially if he plans to snap at me again like he did earlier. Poking my head around the door it looks like he's still asleep. I walk in and shed my clothes, preparing to go back to bed for the next few hours.

When I set myself on my bed, it groans under my weight and I tense slightly and hold my breath. Kyle shifts a little, and just as I think it's safe to bury myself under the covers, I see him turn over to face me, eyes wide open.

"Hey," I say quietly, giving him a small tight smile. "Sorry to wake you."

"Mhm, where'd you go?" He asks. It sounds like he's wide awake.

"Just for a walk around the building," I hesitate, deciding whether or not it's the time to mention my run in with the Captain of the Baseball Team. "I ran into Miller, he was studying."

At that Kyle seems to brighten a little. "Yeah, what do you think, incredible guy isn't he?"

I snort. "Yeah, wonderful."

"You don't think so?" Kyle's hopefulness in his voice makes me instantly feel guilty for absolutely no reason.

"Nah, he's fine," I lie, and roll onto my side to mirror his actions. We're laying on opposite sides of the room, but considering it's a dorm room, I can still make out the color of his eyes. I smile.

"He's a real study-holic. I've woke up several times to find him in that lounge. I wonder when he ever sleeps."

"He probably doesn't," I mutter, more to myself.

Kyle hears me and frowns. "He's not an insomniac, Stan. He has a very busy schedule."

I find it odd that Kyle is so adamant at defending this guy. Are they buddy/buddy or something? This bothers me. A lot.

"I'm sure he does," I mutter to Kyle turning around to have my back toward him. "We should get some sleep since we have to be up in a few hours right?"

He doesn't say anything, and I wonder if I've offended him again. It makes me curse internally. I haven't even been here a full day and already Ky and I aren't getting along like we're supposed to. Yeah we used to have petty arguments all the time, but not this often.

"I don't mean to insinuate anything about Miller okay Kyle? I'm sorry if I did."

There's still silence from his side of the room and I resign to the fact that we'll just have to sleep off the issue and go back to acting like nothing's happened tomorrow.

"…and I'm sorry too," his voice finally breaks the tension. "I know you wouldn't judge him, that's what's so great about you Stan."

I hold the snort that threatens to crawl from my mouth, before turning back to face him. Maybe he is right, but not when it comes to that friend of his. That guy totally rubbed me the wrong way, but for Kyle's sake I'll try again with him. If what Kyle says is true and he really does study day and night then he was probably just tired from lack of sleep.

"And also," he starts again and my ears perk to what he has to say next. "I'm sorry about earlier too, for yelling at you when you woke me up before. I was having a...dream, one I don't like to be woken from usually."

My interest has been alerted, "you have it often?"

"Yeah…I usually wake myself up though."

"What's it about, you were actually scaring me you know."

"…like you said, we should go to sleep. I'll show you around tomorrow as promised." He gives me a smile and I stare it down, bewildered that he would change the subject so abruptly and right to my face.

I watch him pull up his covers and shut his eyes.

-

"Good morning, sleepy head!"

I groan. Did I really just hear someone say that? My mom's not even here! I mutter something inaudible before pushing the covers back over my face.

"You better wake up before it gets to be too late," Kyle tells me. Ugh, these mood swings are too much for me. If he gets any cheerier, I'm going to punch him in the jaw.

I feel a soft bounce on my bed. He's obviously sat down next to me.

"Go away."

"I know you're a grumpy ass when you wake up, dude. I remember _that_ much. So get your ass out of bed so I can show you around!" Kyle informs me, calling me out on me being a dick. Yeah, it sucks to wake up usually for me. Which is why I don't understand how I just...woke up earlier. I feel like a whole other night has passed and that was only eight hours ago.

...Okay another full night _did_ pass.

I wave an arm toward Kyle's voice, hoping he'll go away and leave me alone for a few more minutes. No such luck.

"Come on sunshine, get out of bed or I'll fucking push you out," he says it so happily I almost don't digest the warning.

For being such a grouch when someone wakes him up he's always been a cup of perky in the morning, even if it's mixed with threats.

"Fine," I growl sitting up, and pushing away my covers angrily. "What's on the agenda today?" I mutter rubbing my eyes and wiping my face with a hand to try and wake myself up faster.

"First showers, then breakfast, and then we can start the tour of JV."

"Let me guess," I start as I drop my hand and focus my attention on my best friend. "You've already showered, and you've had some sort of caffeine right?"

"Right, now get up," he responds grinning as he stands and heads towards my drawers going through a bottom one before throwing a towel at me. "Make it a quick shower too, it's already eleven."

I groan and drop back down on my bed.

"I know, half the day's already been wasted!" He says as if it's a true annoyance.

"That's _not _what I was thinking. I was thinking more on the lines of it's only eleven in the morning on a Sunday."

"Dude, you have five minutes to get in the shower before I do something drastic to you."

At least he didn't give me five minutes to be out of the shower, dressed, and ready to go. That means I have a good four minutes to stay inside my covers. Minutes always seem so precious when they're in the morning like this. And trust me, anything before noon is MORNING.

"And that doesn't mean you get to stay in bed then sprint to the showers." I look over at Kyle in disbelief and he narrows his eyes playfully. "I'm watching you."

I exaggerate a shudder. "Creepy," I reply, grinning. Exactly a minute later, I'm out the door with a towel and some necessary toiletries. As I pass the doors in the hallway, I peer into each room, taking in the differences. Kyle and I's definitely seems to have the best set up. He did a good job arranging the room beforehand.

I don't waste time taking a long shower even though it's something I prefer, lest Kyle kill me, but as I brush the morning breath away I make small talk with some of the guys who've been here as long as Kyle has. I feel like people have been looking forward to talking to me, since I'm told more than once how Kyle kept talking and talking about how his best friend was coming to the college. It makes me that much more pleased to be here.

Agreeing to talk again to the guys I met in the bathroom, I make sure my towel is tight on my waste before I head back into the room, fully showered and a little surprised to see Kyle typing away on the computer. I had expected him to him to be standing and taping his foot impatiently.

"Is that a message board?" I ask, as I look in my closet for something to toss on.

"No, just checking my email."

I glance over at him and see he's clicked out of the webpage he had been on when I walked in. He stands and stares at me. I avert my eyes back to my clothes as I grab a pair of jeans and a top.

"Do you mind?" I ask, still feeling his gaze on me.

"Since when are you modest?" He questions with an amused raised eyebrow, but he turns anyway and allows me to change.

"Okay, I'm dressed, ready to go?"

"Thought you'd never ask that."

I could think of something to say to that, but it'd probably end up being inappropriate or just plain stupid. Plus Kyle's practically skipping into the doorway, so I decide it best to follow suite. Minus the skipping, of course.

"I trust you met some of the guys on the floor?" he asks as we glance into rooms again, this time some guys nodding my existence. I recognize a few from the bathrooms.

"Yeah, they seem real cool." I nod back at one who sees me and smiles.

I feel Kyle's pace slow down, and suddenly, he's turned around. "You didn't talk to a guy named Austin, did you?" His tone has turned dead serious, and he's looking around as though this Austin character will pop out at any given time.

I shrug. "Don't think so. I don't remember their names, dude." Why would it matter if I talked to him anyway? Is he an asshole? Can't be any worse than that Miller dick.

"Stay away from him, Stan," Ky warns me. His tone is almost threatening.

"Does he steal your underwear when you're showering?" I joke, trying my best to make light of the situation.

Much to my disappointment, Kyle doesn't find it the slightest bit funny. In fact, he seems a bit irritated. I study his features as he takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and leans in to whisper. "He's kind of a strange guy. Doesn't at all fit in, and he makes up these insane stories."

"Sounds like my dad," I jest again.

Kyle glares at me. "His stories are shit, Stan. He doesn't know what the fuck he is talking about."

"O…okay, Ky," I acknowledge with one brow raised. Although I must admit, I kinda want to talk to this guy if I haven't yet. "So what kind of stories are we talking?" I question him. "Aliens, big foot, ghosts…? Help me out here."

"Just," Kyle shakes his head. "Just don't go near him."

"Come on, what's so bad about the guy? You're-"

"Stan!" He almost shouts in my face, "do not go near him, got it?!"

"Whoa, sheesh okay, damn, calm down, I got it, I wont go near him," I say though I can't really promise it, since I'm not entirely sure who Kyle is talking about. He didn't point out the guy or anything, and there could be a hundred Austin's in this school. It is a common enough name.

My answer seems to satisfy Kyle though, and he takes a deep breath and smiles before grabbing my elbow and pulling me along. "For breakfast you have to have an empanada they're so fucking good. The head cook used to be a cook for a five star restaurant at one point."

"Then why's he working at a college cafeteria now?" I mutter and Kyle swats my arm, half laughing. I laugh back but my eyes continue to scan the area as if that guy, Austin will magically appear with a sign above his head, stating who he is.

"Do you always have to be such a smartass?" Kyle laughs, and I know he's light-hearted again. I'm getting pretty damn sick of walking on eggshells to keep him calm though. Something is up, I just know it.

As we head out of Windermere, I walk almost behind Kyle as he speed walks to the adjacent building. I can only assume it is the cafeteria, but my senses tell me it is as we near the central double doors. Pleasant smells, carried by the wind, invade my nostrils, growing in strength with every passing step. When Kyle pushes me into the line and tells me where to go, I suddenly realize I don't know what the hell an empanada is.

Either way looking around at all the choices I'm starting to get a little excited. Whether the head cook of this place really came from a five star or not doesn't matter much to me. What matters is the food and how it tastes and from the view I have it all looks good. Following the example of the girl in front of me I take my tray and maneuver myself around the rows and rows of buffet lines and food.

It's hard to believe looking around, that all the food right now is just breakfast food. There's so much! But reading a few signs I see that this place has breakfast foods originating from all over the world, and it all looks pretty damn good, save a few items, that by the time I find the label for the empanada's there's no room left on my tray for them.

I've already piled my food, and one more thing will definitely send it all tumbling to the ground. Damn!

Where the hell is Kyle when I need him?!

I twist my head around, realizing that I haven't seen him since we first entered the cafeteria. I finally find him amongst a group of guys sitting to the side of the eating area. There's quite a few of them, fifteen or so and Kyle's in the middle of it. Half of them are standing, and the other's are sitting, but everyone seems to be angled to be looking down at…Goddamnit! It's that asshole Miller. Wait, no…I told myself I'd give the guy a chance and from here…okay from here he actually doesn't look that bad. In fact that emotionless look on his face has been replaced with this easy accepting smile. It makes me wince.

"I wouldn't bother if I were you," a voice to the side of me says. I turn to look at the owner, seeing a guy about my own height. Brown hair, brown eyes, nothing special, just another guy.

"Bother with what?" I question, when I absorb what he told me.

"Trying to get into the HHS."

"The what?"

"The High Honor Society, that group of guys over there that you've been ogling. The clubs elite, far beyond any normal honor society, and no matter your grades, the only way to get in is through personal invitation only."

"Really?" I ask my interest raising.

"Yeah," he nods. "See that guy sitting over there in the corner by the exit?" He points out and I turn to follow his finger. "You see him, blonde spiky hair, red shirt?"

"I see him."

"His old man is the owner of the company that created double-sided tape."

"What?" I ask, leaning away from the guy.

"No shitting you man, the guy is the heir to the double sided tape foundation, but anyway the point is that kid is loaded, _loaded, _but he's also seriously smart. Top twenty here at JV, but even with the grades, and the money and power behind his name he couldn't get into the HHS. No amount of political influence could get him in."

I frown, "is it that big a deal to be in it?"

"That big a deal?!" He looks slightly disgusted at me, "you are clearly new. Being in the HHS means you are set for life, rumor has it that seven presidents and a handful of prime ministers were in different chapters of the HHS."

I look over at the group of guys. From here they don't seem all that special, they just seem like a bunch of friends eating breakfast together. "How do they choose who they send invites to?"

The guy shakes his head, "that's the thing, no one has a fucking clue. That group of guys is as diverse and unconnected as anything, like a jury or something. Some are rich, some are dirt poor, a couple are barely 3.4 students, and they're not _all _that good looking. So, no's quite sure how you get invited. Guys have tried everything from being nice, to killing themselves over their studies, to flat out bribing and asking their rich parents to say something, but nothing, it never works."

"How often do they recruit people?"

"When they feel like it. Notice the curly redhead?"

I nod, looking at Kyle who's talking with Miller. I try not to clench my tray too tightly as I watch them talk. Whatever they're talking about doesn't seem to include the others.

"He was invited like two weeks after coming to JV. Two weeks! That isn't enough time to show skill at anything, and what's crazier is that he's like best friends with the president of the HHS Miller Bradley. Mill's a nice guy and all, friendly to everyone."

I hold in my scoff.

"But he's never been really close with anyone, save that redhead Kyle Broflovski."

Really now. I wonder why that guy likes Ky so much. I mean, I know why he would. It's Kyle. Kyle's just that great of a guy. But why would Miller choose Ky over everyone else to get close to? That kind of pisses me off. Kyle never even mentioned having a great friend here. He would just always complain that I wasn't here and we didn't get to hang out enough.

Then it dawns on me. This sudden confession from a complete stranger is not strange at all. I can almost place money on it that this is the guy. What was his name again?

"I'm Stan, by the way," I greet, extending my hand in a friendly way.

"Austin," he replies without a reciprocating hand. Yeah, Austin. That's the one! The guy Kyle didn't want me talking to. Now I _really_ want to know why. I figure the best way to start any kind of a relationship is be up front and honest about everything. So it's probably best I tell Austin who I am and why I'm here.

"I'm actually…uh…" I stutter, "…" Out of the corner of my eye, I keep a watch over Kyle and Miller. Miller just put his arm around him, and Kyle is nodding, almost like Miller is giving him instructions. They're walking away from the huddled mass, and the mass is starting to break up.

"Shit, they've asked you to join, haven't they?" Austin spits out, assuming from my confused expression. "I need to keep my fucking mouth shut," he curses himself.

I ignore his put-down. "Nah man," I assure him, eyes still glued to Kyle and Miller. "Its just that…" I turn my attention to him. "I'm Kyle's best friend from back home."

His eyes light up, and his expression looks like he's trying to calculate numbers in his head. Then he blurts out, "you're Marsh from South Park?!"

Now it's _my_ turn to put two and two together. A small smile sweeps across my face. Does Kyle tell EVERYONE about me? Including the guys he doesn't like so well? "Yeah I am. Did Ky tell you about me?" I think aloud.

"Ky?" he asks incredulously. "Do you honestly believe he even _talks_ to me? I'm not part of that group."

I shake my head. "He's not like that, dude. He's just a book nerd up here on scholarship." I divert my attention once more to Kyle and Miller. They've broken up, and now Kyle is heading in my direction. He looks kind of pissed.

Shit!

"Stan, you pay for your food over HERE," he instructs sternly, whipping his pointer finger out to the designated place. His eyes have narrowed and are focused on Austin. I know this because he is glaring right through me. I half expect him to walk full speed into the guy and have an all out brawl. Instead, he stops dead in his tracks, waiting for me to catch up to him. He doesn't step forward another inch as I turn back around to say goodbye.

"I'll see ya later, man."

He nods uncertainly. "Yeah. Later."

When I reconnect my eyes to Kyle's, the green has temporarily faded out. In place of it is red, I swear to God. He's gritting his teeth and squeezing his fists together too. He doesn't think I can see it. He's trying to appear calm. Why the hell does it bother him so much? Austin seems like a nice enough guy. He seems jealous as hell about that dumb honors society…maybe that's why Ky hates him so much. Kyle abhors whiny babies who complain about what they don't have.

"Hey dude," I casually greet once I meet up with him again. I gesture toward my tray. "I've got my breakfast, lunch, and dinner right h-"

"What the hell was that, Stan?" he scolds.

I stare at him blankly. "What the hell was what?"

"I warned you about that douche bag, and you deliberately went out of your way to talk to him!" he cries, as if I just broke a sacred bond of friendship by making a new friend. Since when do we have to like or not like the same guys?

I shrug my shoulders and blow him off. "He seems nice enough."

Kyle just twitched. I can tell he did, even if my back is facing him. "Did what I say mean _NOTHING_ to you?!?" Now it's his turn to catch up to me as I walk away and pay for my shit.

"Sure it did," I say as I take a seat and twist off the cap to my juice. He's not-so-patiently awaiting further explanation. I won't give him any. He's really starting to annoy me with this overdramatic argument. It's already old, it was old the minute it started. This isn't Kyle at all. What did that Miller dick say to him?

He takes a deep breath. "Stan, I understand you're trying to make friends. It's natural. You're new here. But when I advise you to stay away from someone, I usually have a reason." That last part of his statement was of lower and more threatening tone than the first.

I study his features, trying to decide whether any of this is a joke. Immediately, I decide it's not. What the fuck is up his ass? "Kay," I reply.

"Stan, I don't want you to get the wrong impression of JV because you're hanging out with some whack job who doesn't have his facts straight!"

"O-KAY," I repeat, this time with more annoyance in my voice. Jesus Christ, since when did all of my friends turn into girls? I heard him the first time!

Kyle lets out an aggravated sigh and closes his eyes, looking as if he's counting down from ten or something to calm himself down. "Let's just drop it for now."

"How 'bout we drop it completely?" I mutter to myself, looking down at my mountain of food. He doesn't say anything, and as I look back up I catch a glimpse of him glaring at me before it vanishes from his face.

"Any reason for gorging?" He asks, changing the subject. "The food isn't going anywhere Stan."

"I know that, KYLE," I stress with emphasis on his name. "But, come on, how often do you get to indulge in a five-course meal in a college cafeteria?"

"Everyday. I live here. You do too, now, remember?"

Ah, I should've seen that one coming. I don't like cranky Kyle. He has no sense of humor. I can't even joke with him! Still, I try my best. "Oh THAT'S RIGHT!" I cry, hitting my head with the heel of my palm. "I can be such a dumbass sometimes."

To this, Kyle shrugs. "Meh. You have your moments."

When I look up from my tray, he's wearing his normal, everyday shit-eating grin. And, like that, we're cool again.

-

"Ugh," I fall back on my bed. "For a small campus there sure are a lot of people that go here. Remind me again why you felt the need to introduce me to almost everyone we passed today?"

Kyle and I are back in our dorm room from a very long day of touring JV. He showed me the buildings to make sure I got my bearings, then he showed me the fields, the stadiums, and the nearby college town.

"I didn't introduce you to everyone…just the people I think you ought to know."

"Don't even go down that route," I warn, and he wisely takes my advice. "So what now?"

"Now we go to sleep."

"Sleep! It's only ten!"

"And it's Sunday, we both have classes tomorrow or have you forgotten about the main reason you came here?"

"Dude the _main _reason I came here was to be with you."

If I'm not mistaken, I see the shade of Kyle's naturally rosy cheeks darken just a bit.

"I'm...I'm glad you got to come, dude," he equally gushes. He issues a smile that radiates through the entire room, and I'm not entirely sure why.

I look down at my watch to avoid any awkward male bonding moments and change the subject. "Sooo...10:00 is our bedtime on Sundays then?"

"Been that way ever since..." he trails off. That could've been a complete thought, but he trailed off. Why did he trail off?

"...Since when?" I figure I'll help him out. Maybe he forgot he was speaking. I don't know, I'm really on edge about him right now. He's been on and off all day, and I can't quite put a finger on it, but something has altered his perception on the world. He's not the sarcastic genius I once knew him to be...and that bothers me.

"Since the beginning of school," he says matter-of-factly. "I just got used to it, that's all. When they say you'll have to work three times has hard in college as you did in high school they're not just giving you a load of bullshit."

I frown, not looking forward to it. Things hadn't been that different at South Park Community when I was there, from high school. But what he says makes perfect sense. I had to study my ass off to get into this school, it's not surprising I'll have to study my ass off to stay in it.

"Do you think you'll be okay finding your classes tomorrow?" He asks as he starts to change into his sleep clothes.

I nod slowly, shaking my head when I realize I'm watching him to pull on my own night clothes. "I should be fine, if not I'll ask one of your friends."

"They'll be your friends in no time too," he responds as he flicks off the overhead light and crawls into his bed. "Night dude."

"Night," I respond and slowly lean down to rest for the night. It's kinda hard to think of sleeping right now. There's so much in my mind with my first day being tomorrow…I'll have to remember to call Ken afterwards to let him know how it went. Not that he'll care, but I'm sure he'll appreciate the gesture of me calling.

Even with the thought of not being able to sleep due to feeling antsy, my eyes start to flutter and just as I find myself asleep I find myself waking up from a slight noise in the room. I open my eyes and peer into the darkness seeing the outline of Kyle's body opening our door.

I glance at our digital clock and it flashes 11:50. Too tired to care and assuming Kyle's off to use the bathroom I shift and try to fall back asleep. But as I begin to toss and turn a little I can't help but notice that it's now twenty after and Kyle hasn't returned.

- **i**_**BB**_ and _**f **_**G**


	3. III The Unfolding

**AN: **For two authoresses who have other stories that are being updated at a rather slow pace, we sure are pumping this story out fast. Anyway, we like this chapter. A lot. You should too. Things are starting to get intense here and we love the direction, very much so. We appreciate all the feedback and hopefully questions will be answered along the way, because we certainly aren't telling! Enjoy!

**The Reformation of Kyle Broflovski**

**III. **The Unfolding

"And this is the quad where we sometimes take our food if it's nice outside," Kyle shows me. Again. He's so proud of this place that he's going through a mini-tour for the second time as we walk to our Monday classes. I've decided to just let him ramble, while I silently look on and prepare myself.

I looked over my schedule before I left the dorm a few minutes before, and Ky said he'd walk me to my first destination, but I'm still nervous about this. This is my first day here at JV, and, like I said before, this is the REAL deal.

I smile at the oncoming traffic of guys heading to their respective classes, and Kyle continues with his story about the quad. I look around to take in the sights, the smells, and the sounds of the campus.

I can't believe I signed up for speech class first thing. A Monday morning speech? Ugh, I should have thought twice about this. And I should have taken it at the community college rather then take it here.

I wouldn't say I was the worst public speaker, but I'm not exactly the best either. I still get really nervous, but so long as it's a class I feel comfortable in I should be fine.

Kyle is still talking as we walk into the building my first class is held in, and it isn't until we've reached the door that I hold up a hand to stop him. I smile, "thanks for escorting me to class, mother. I can probably take it from here."

He smirks, though his face reddens a little, as if he's realized he's gotten carried away in talking again. "Sure thing, my cute little boy, now give mommy her goodbye hug and kiss." He leans toward me but I quickly block him with an elbow before quickly side stepping him.

"Dude!" I say half laughing.

He lets out a chuckle himself, and I see his grin extend from ear to ear. "I'll be waiting at home with a plate of cookies and a video camera, so I can hear about the WHOLE thing," he teases.

I smile genuinely. That is what his mom used to do after every first day of school. I would usually come home with him and she'd interview me too. It was this thing we did that we always joked about how lame it was...but you could tell Kyle was secretly excited to be so important.

I follow his eyes as he glances inside the door and into the classroom. His expression immediately sobers up, and I he looks at me. "Have a good time, Stan. I'll see you when you get back." He takes one more look into the classroom, acknowledges someone with a quick nod of the head, and then takes his exit.

I frown at the sudden change in moods, but shrug it off. After all, I can't have Kyle on my mind on my first day. I can't zone out at all–I've got to pay attention more than I ever have before.

I spin around and walk into the classroom, which is set up much like the rooms in the CC were, except that there is a large window spanning the right wall. There is another door in the front of the room, where I assume the instructor keeps his stuff, cause it just shut. There are a handful of people in the room, but no one that I recognize from yesterday. I take a deep breath and choose an aisle seat in the third row. I have three minutes to collect my thoughts before this all begins.

I try to take these three minutes to relax. I have to remember that when you strip away the money, this is just another school. There really is nothing to be nervous about. I eye the people around me, noticing that most of them seem to already know each other. Well, they have all been here a whole semester before me, so that's not too surprising.

I dig into my bag, pulling out a notebook and a pen, though I'm not sure how many notes I'll be taking in a speech class, but when I sit back up I jump at seeing a guy now sitting to the desk on my left.

"Scare you?" He asks amused.

"Kinda," I answer honestly. He and I strike up a bit of conversation before the door in the front of the room opens and out walks a short mousy looking sort of older man. He's a bit on the skinny side, with a full head of brown hair, and small little glasses that I can tell he'll be pushing up a lot. This guy, is our speech teacher? He looks like he'd faint first thing, in front of a class. The guy beside me mutters something along the lines of the same thing I just thought, and I nod to acknowledge that I heard him.

"If we could all quiet down please," he says so softly I barely hear him.

The class does so and I think everyone takes this moment to eye him with the surprise that I'm feeling. "Good, now then, welcome to Communications 101, Public Speaking, before we get started I want to introduce someone. He'll be teaching the majority of this class. Miller?" He calls out softly, turning back to the front door, and I feel my heart drop into my stomach.

Sure enough, out comes none other than THE Miller. THE guy that I will never be able to escape, I can already tell this. He's dressed in a casual red button up shirt and a nice pair of brown khakis, and he scans the audience.

"Hello, my name is Mr. Bradley, and I'm going to be assisting Mr. Smith with the introductory speech class this semester. I'm excited..." He keeps going, but, like Kyle, I tune him out.

Okay, so not only do I have to hear about how grand this Miller dick is all the time from my roommate...I now have to take orders from him too? Is he considered my actual teacher? I want a transfer!

"...that means I will be collecting scores and evaluating your performances individually. This is counting toward my degree in Public Communications." He takes a deep breath, searching everyone's faces. I do the same, noting that most guys have a sign of relief painted on, as if Miller is going to cut them some slack.

"I realize that most of you know me personally from outside of this classroom. However, when you are in here, I am not your buddy. There will be no special treatment--do not expect me to cut you some slack. I am here professionally, per Mr. Smith, to show you the ropes of public speaking. Any questions?"

I look around again. Wow, those faces just went from smirking to frowning. He's really put them in their place. I know I won't get any special treatment. Not when he finds out he'll be MY relief pitcher.

I listen as a couple generic questions are asked and I listen to their generic answers. When it's time to go over the syllabus, I rest my head on my elbow. I completely forgot the first day of classes is usually no more than a load of information. I watch as Miller pulls out his glasses from a back pocket before he sums up what the class is going to entail.

When he's finished he looks at Mr. Smith he gives him a nod.

"Alright then for the last half hour of class Smith and I have agreed on a little on the spot speech. Nothing fancy, obviously, but we'd like each and every one of you to come up to the front of the class and introduce yourself. Nothing long, we don't need your life story," he smirks as does a few others. "But a name, where you're from, your major, and why you chose to attend JV should be fine enough."

He looks at the first guy in the first row, "you're up."

From where I'm seating I watch the guy swallow hard. He looks like a nervous one, not that I'm not getting the same way. I hate on the spot stuff, and I especially hate introductions.

And it's not that answering those questions are really that hard, I'm just not a big fan of being watched as I announce why I'm here. Kyle. I'm here because of Kyle. Nobody will understand that, will they? I have to think of a story and fast.

As the first guy stutters and looks to Miller for guidance, I grind my teeth. If I have to ask THAT asshole for guidance, I'd rather fail the course. Where does he get off being able to teach a class anyway? Just cause he's an upperclassmen and head of that lame society and star pitcher and class president and...

Okay, he won't give US special treatment, but he gets it all on his own. I get it. Why does he like Kyle so much? What did Kyle do to impress him? Why is he staring at me like that? Oh God. Oh no.

"Stan," he calls to me, smirking. "Why don't you go next, I'm sure your story is interesting."

I could kill him! Jesus Christ, call me out like that. Special treatment my ass. He's talking about favoritism. He didn't mention anything about dogging the guy he hates.

I reluctantly stand up; just now realizing my leg is asleep. I half trip, half walk out of my row, making it as humanely possible to appear as though I meant to do it. At least I didn't fall down...

I approach the stand like I'm going into a courtroom about to tell my tale. Taking a deep breath, I look out to my classmates and tell myself that they all have to do this too.

Clearing my throat, and avoiding Miller's stare, I begin. "Well you already know my name is Stan from Miller…er...Mr. Bradley here. If...if I met any of you, it was yesterday." My palms start to sweat, and I know my voice is cracking. RELAX, Stan.

"I literally just moved here...Saturday. From my hometown South Park. I've come to study architecture and I found out about this place through my best friend. He's actually the reason I'm here." I smile thinking about how wanting to be with him pushed me to getting the grades I'm capable of getting. I hear the class both snicker and fake "awws", but all I can see is Miller and his intense eyes penetrating me. I'm sure he knew all of this though, considering Kyle talks about me all the time.

"Anyway…so, yeah." I finish lamely. "I guess that's it." I start to head back to my seat when Miller speaks up.

"So how long have you and your friend known each other?"

Why is he asking me questions? He didn't ask the last guy questions, and why is he asking such a lame one. I'm sure he knows, and he knows exactly who I'm talking about so I fail to see the reason as to why he's referring to Kyle as my "friend".

"…since kindergarten."

"Then you two know a lot about each other."

I purse my lips together, "everything there is to know."

"You can't possibly know everything."

"I'm sure I do."

"And I am positive you do not."

Mr. Smith clears his voice and I step out of the small world I had joined with Miller. Heat rises to my face as I realize that we'd had a mini battle about Kyle right in front of the class.

"Thank you Stan, you may return to your seat," Miller mutters.

I do so, and try not to look around. I hear someone whisper, "damn I have got to meet this guy," before I plant myself back in my tiny desk chair. Okay, that was a little embarrassing, but damn that guy gets me worked up! What does he mean that he's positive that I don't know everything about Kyle? What has Kyle told him that he hasn't told me?

The rest of the class goes by in a blur, mostly because I'm sitting on that challenge that bastard silently gave me. It's inside me, brewing. I don't like him. Not one bit. And I don't care what Kyle says, or how Kyle practically swoons when he mentions him. Something is NOT right!

I look to my watch toward the end, making sure the idiot doesn't keep us over time. I have another class directly after this that I have to get to, and I'm not going to be held accountable for tardiness if Miller can't shut that hole in his face.

Man, he talks a lot. He's so full of himself; I'm sure he'd get his face bronzed and hang it on his mantle if he had the chance. And those stupid reading glasses of his...the way he adjusts them and looks over them to the class to see if we're paying attention. What the hell is even reading, anyway? This is SPEECH class.

"Lastly, I want you to all research your favorite public speaker and be ready to tell us about him or her on Wednesday. Indicate why he or she is your favorite, and give us a brief overview of what makes him or her great. Throughout this course, we will not just do 'speeches'. We will get inside the heads of some of the world's most powerful leaders, and how they became who they were just through powerful speaking skills."

Oh brother.

"If there are no more general questions, you are dismissed." He waves his hand as if he's sick of us and wants the butler to take us away. I stay in my seat a little longer than the rest of class, allowing the room to clear before I stand up.

The prick notices it, and before I step out of the classroom, he speaks up. "Good class today, Stan. I look forward to hearing your findings next meeting."

Maybe now isn't the time, but I can't imagine going a whole semester like this, so I have to ask, "dude what is your deal?" I ask as I grab my bag and hoist it across my chest.

He takes off his glasses and pockets them before eyeing me closely, "my deal?" He repeats as if the word is far too much slang for him to comprehend. "I don't quite understand."

The hell he doesn't.

"You've had problems with me since the second I came here," I tell him annoyed. I know I'm pushing my luck. If I don't leave now I'll be late to my next class, especially since I'm not entirely sure of its exact location. But it's only been two days; two days and I've made an enemy. I'm already sick of it.

Instead of answering he walks through the door in the front of the classroom, and just as I'm about to drop my jaw, thinking he's just left me in the rudest possible manner, he reappears with his own bag slung over his chest.

"Good day Mr. Smith," he says and I look over having completely forgotten about the real teacher of this course. The man nods, looking over both of us quietly before retreating into what I'm now assuming to be a back office.

When I turn back to look at Miller he's already well outside the classroom and walking down the hallway. Fuming I catch up with him, a little surprised when he looks down at me impassively and answers my question.

"Stan," he addresses, not slowing his pace. "When you've been friends with someone for as long as you and Kyle have been, you tend to attach yourself to the person they are when you two are together. Kyle is a bright and talented man who has more sides than I think you two have explored together."

What the hell? He's not answering my question. "What does Kyle have to do with your feelings toward me?" I ask bitterly, watching his every action while trying desperately to keep up with him and not trip. I'm not even sure I'm going in the right direction.

"I met Kyle a few days after he moved in to Windermere. I see potential in him to be something great--not some mountain town hick the way he was raised."

"So do I!" I cry defensively. I'm not a mountain town hick either!

"Stan, what we have here is the impossible situation." He finally stops, and turns toward me. "I'm the new best friend, you're the old best friend. We're bound to have unkind feelings toward one another. I already sense this in you. Please relax, I mean you no harm. I'm trying to get along with you, per Kyle's sake. We can be civil for him, right?"

"You have a problem with me cause I'm Kyle's friend?" I clarify, trying to absorb all his technical language.

He chuckles. "I think it is _you_ who has a problem with me, dear friend."

My eyes narrow and I clench the strap on my bag. I've had it with him today, maybe part of what he's saying is the truth, maybe I do have a problem with him, because he seems like the new friend, I'll never say best, that's my title, and mine alone. But under no circumstance will I be called a friend by him.

"Don't. Fucking. Patronize me," I spit out. "I am not your friend. You're right about one thing, we owe it to Kyle to be civil, but we don't have to like each other."

He looks slightly taken aback and I spin on my heel head down a different hallway, that leads down a flight of stairs.

I'm fifteen minutes late to my next class, and I can tell my teacher is prepared to give me a lecture, but I think the look on my face stops him. I must be radiating pure anger; I've never been so pissed. And what irritates me even more is the fact that he can get me this pissed. It means he has an affect on me, and I don't want him to have one on me.

-

"And then he challenged me in front of the whole class!" I spit out to Kyle. He's sitting on his bed, with an actual plate of cookies in his hand. I wanted to smile, I wanted to laugh and give him a hard time about it, but I was still seeing red after earlier this morning. So Kyle's been sitting in a ridiculously frilly pink apron that only God knows where it came from, with his plate of cookies (presumably from the cafeteria, I'd HOPE he wouldn't take time to bake them), staring at me with his mouth open. I cut him off before I even gave him a chance to ask how my day was.

"Miller did?" Kyle asks incredulously.

"Kyle, I asked him what his problem was and he started going off about how you and I are old best friends and he's your new best friend and-"

Kyle closes his mouth, sighs, and places the cookie plate on the side of the bed. I have yet to take my book bag off.

"Are you jealous of him?" he asks quietly. Not quietly enough.

My roar contrasts his timid voice. "THE FUCK I AM! KYLE, he was PURPOSELY trying to piss me off in class, dude!"

His eyebrows crunch up. "That doesn't seem like something he would do, Stan. I know Miller, and I know the guy can occasionally come off as cocky, but he's just so self-assured. It's really quite admirable, if you ask me."

Ugh, this was a mistake. I can see I'm going to get nowhere in convincing Ky that his precious Miller is really a dirty asshole. I should probably shut up now and accept a damn cookie.

"Maybe," I regrettably admit, though I'm not admitting anything. "Did you really bake cookies for me, dude?"

"What?" he asks, caught off-guard. He looks to the plate. "Oh, no, bought them from the commons area." He frowns, searching my eyes for something.

"What?" I ask simply.

"Are you afraid I like Miller more than you?"

Yes. "No," I lie, apparently unconvincingly.

Kyle's shoulder's drop. "Stan, I asked you to come here to live with me. That should tell you something."

"Yeah I know, it's just…you talk about Miller like he's something way better than I could ever be," I pout.

"That's not true."

"Yeah, dude, it-" A knock on our door causes me to stop and to glance at it. Kyle starts to head for the door with a sigh. "The apron," I say to him wearily and with a blush he pulls it off and tosses it in a corner before opening the door.

I hear him muttering quietly to whoever is at the door and when I turn to finally get a look at who Kyle is talking to he glances over at me, his body halfway out the door. "I'll be back in a few hours, something came up."

"What?" I ask standing.

He waves me back down, "I won't be around for dinner, but I'll see you tonight and we can talk more okay?"

"Wait, where are you go-" He shuts the door before I have a chance to finish my sentence. Rushing over to the door I yank it back open and see the retreating back of Kyle walking next to a guy I had been briefly introduced to yesterday. And I also remember seeing him in the cafeteria lounge; he was one of Miller's apparent worshippers.

Dejected, I walk back into the room and have a seat on Kyle's bed, next to the cookies. I tap my fingers impatiently on the olive green bedspread. ...

Where could have he possibly gone? To be gone for a FEW hours? Hours?! What the hell is going on? One of these days, I'm not going to stand by and let him do it. Matter of fact, he won't be able to avoid the subject tonight.

And he's not going to be here for dinner! That's just great. That means I have to go and eat by myself. Does he not remember that I just got here two days ago? And that I'm only here because I thought I'd get to spend more time with him? DOES THAT MEAN ANYTHING TO HIM?

As I fume, I pick up a cookie and stare at it. I want to throw the whole fucking plate out the window, but instead decide to eat one. It turns out to be the best damn cookie I've ever tasted.

That doesn't make up for anything.

To pass the time I flick on the television and watch a few shows I don't know the name of, when that gets boring I decide to start on my homework. Unfortunately, considering that most of my classes were just information periods I don't have that much to do. I'm even able to finish the 'pick your favorite public speaker' project I got in speech class. I end up picking simply because he's the only one I can think of besides a bunch of dictators.

When I finish that three hours have past and Kyle still isn't back. I groan, "ugh, where the fuck did you go?" I mutter, glaring at my stomach that's starting to rumble.

Well, you can't avoid the calls of nature. Maybe I'll just take my food to go so I don't have to draw attention to myself by eating alone like a loner. When I've pulled on my sneakers and a light jacket I head toward the cafeteria and stand in line to begin the buffet treatment.

Once my food is sky high again, and I've paid I'm almost across the giant room when someone taps me on the shoulder. I turn and see Austin giving me a small smile.

I glance around, as if I expect Kyle to be somewhere glaring daggers at me for talking to this guy, but then I remember. Kyle ditched me to go…wherever.

"Hey," he says.

"Hi," I respond back dully.

He looks around briefly, "where's your friend?"

I shrug, and turn to leave.

"Wait, sorry, that was a dumb question, he's probably with the others since they're not here either. They probably have a meeting."

"…who has a meeting?" Goddamn my curiosity.

"The High Honors Society."

There he goes with that dumbass club again. "He's been gone for three hours."

"They've been known to last all night. And they're sporadic too, so you never know when the meetings are." He leans in close to me. "Maybe to keep the spies out or something?"

I pause to think about this. That would make sense. But it's a little too intense for my taste. "Why do you know so much about this supposed-club that you aren't a member of? Unless you are the one doing the sneaking."

"No!" Austin immediately retorts, his voice high with defense. He pulls back, looking around the cafeteria, before starting to walk. "Come sit with me."

"I'd rather just eat back in my dorm and wait for Kyle to come home."

"You could be waiting until midnight or later, man. Come on! Relax! Take a breather with a sane person for once," he tells me, and I flinch at the word 'sane'. Kyle is sane!

"Okay..." I decide, following him to a darkened corner. It's only darkened cause the bulb above went out. I sit down across from him and dig in.

"You're going to get sick eating like that," he says, chuckling.

I snort. "That's what Ky said."

Austin frowns. "He really means a lot to you, doesn't he?"

I raise my eyebrows. "Well, yeah."

"Then don't let them do it to him, man. Don't let them get him!"

"What." I am kind of annoyed with his all-dramatic tone and choice of setting.

He leans over the table. "I had a roommate last year. Danny. He and I were the best of buds. We did everything together."

"So?"

"So when we came back from summer vacation, I expected the same kind of friendship. Only...he had changed."

My interest is peaked. "What do you mean?"

Austin slouches back in his chair and looks off as if envisioning what happened. "I knew right away something was up with him. I mean, he acted normal…kinda, but then he'd randomly just snap at me. For the stupidest shit too. For saying stuff about people we had laughed about together the previous year, for talking to certain people he deemed unworthy…he wasn't the guy I had grown to call my best friend. And it sucks man, seeing that happen."

"Whoa," I stop him with my left hand. "Are you going to tell me that all of that is because they asked him to join that dumb club?"

"It's not just a club!" he screeches. "Stan, you seem like a pretty good guy. And it's clear what you feel for your buddy. If you care about him at all, you won't let them get to him. They don't talk about shit like you and I talk about. Now I'm no expert, but I'm pretty sure they're serious about being blood brothers for life."

I shudder. Everything he just described about his old roommate is Kyle. Kyle right now. Is this Austin guy for real?

"Austin?" I ask, my attention solely on him now. He looks at me. "Is Danny still part of it?"

"What part of 'for life' don't you understand?" he replies sarcastically.

"I mean...he still goes here? Do you see him at all?"

Austin sighs. "Everyday. He avoids me like the plague. I've probably been labeled the number one guy not to get involved with by the HHS. No offense, but do you remember the way your friend acted when he saw you talking to me, like I had some sort of disease and if you talked to me you'd be a goner?"

I nod numbly, I remember that well obviously. It was only yesterday, and the intensity at which Kyle flipped at me…

"The HHS doesn't want its members associating with me, I'm a "bad influence, and I've been known to talk bullshit"," he quotes as if he's been told this many times. I almost want to laugh, in a half disbelief kinda way. That's exactly what Kyle said Austin did.

I rub my forehead, "no way." I mutter, looking down. "There's no way," I repeat.

"No way what?" He asks gently, as if I'll snap at him.

"No way what you're saying is for real," I whip my head back at him.

"But?" He says automatically. "But you know there's an odd ring of truth to it right, because Kyle…he's acting like Danny did isn't he?"

"It's just an honor society," I whisper. "It isn't some fucked up…" I trail off.

"Isn't some fucked up what? Isn't some fucked up cult?" He lets out a fake laugh, the kind someone makes when they know more than they want to know and can't do anything about it. "We're in the real world Stan, and as off the wall as it sounds…I'm not sure what else it could be."

I shake my head again. I can't believe this sort of thing. I can't. Kyle wouldn't get mixed up in a cult, not a second time! Sure he's been off, he hasn't been like himself, he's secretive, and moody…but! But! There are still enough times when he's my Kyle, my best friend, the guy I've known since forever.

"If that's the case," I start, after finding my voice again. "Why don't you say anything to someone? Talk to the dean or something?"

Austin tilts his head at me, "you're really from a small mountain aren't you?"

"What?!"

"Of course I've tried, but I don't think you understand how much power that "simple" club has. I can't even get an appointment with the dean, or the president. Besides, I'm just an average student, no special traits, on a government scholarship. What I say doesn't carry very far in JV."

I bite my lip. I'm still undecided if I believe this cock and bull story. It's too far fetched, way too far fetched. We're not in some fucked up story where people are controlling what happens in our lives like string puppets. This is real life, and shit like this doesn't happen in real life…I think.

"But…but why Kyle, why Danny?"

Austin folds his arms. "I told you before, I don't know."

"But you must have an idea."

"Everyone has ideas."

"But you're not everyone. You don't worship that group, you see them for what they are."

He studies me, as if to be sure I'm being honest, and that I wont turn on him and report what I've heard to Kyle or something. He sighs, "I said they were like a jury right, everyone is different." I nod. "I think there's one similarity between them all, and it's not even something tangible, it isn't really something I can see, so maybe I'm just trying to look hard into something that isn't there."

"What is it?" I rush.

"…no matter their physical appearance, their grades, their family backgrounds, each and every one of them is a-"

"Hey Stan," a voice growls out and I jump around to see Kyle standing there with Miller. GODDAMN it's ALWAYS Miller.

"Kyle!" I squeak, unaware that that kind of fear resided in my voice. Wait a minute, why am I afraid of my own best friend? "How did you find me?" I ask timidly, realizing that THAT was the _stupidest_ thing I could have ever asked. I'm trying not to sound too suspicious and here I go sounding incredibly obvious.

Kyle looks at Miller with disgust, and the two of them glare down at me. "You weren't in the room, so I figured you were eating again." I would normally laugh at his assumption that the _only_ other place I could be would be a food hall, but I'm scared shitless. The way they are both just staring us down, like this mob squad, I'm...I'm speechless.

"I needed someone to sit with," Austin tells them, gathering his stuff. "He was going to take his food back to the dorm and wait for you like the good little puppy he is."

To this, Miller snarls. Kyle's eyes remain on me, looking like I just betrayed him in the worst way. "Well I'm back," he states simply. "You can come eat with me now."

Oh, I know we won't be eating after this. No, that food is as good as wasted, because not only will I get chewed out for seemingly disobeying Ky, but I've also lost my appetite to the point that the food is making me sick just looking at it.

"I think I'll take my leave, Kyle," Miller states. He leans into Kyle's ear and whispers so that I can't hear. But I do. "You've got your work cut out for you, man." Whatever that means, he just said it.

Austin nods to me. "See you around, Stan." Then he pauses to take an extra long look, letting me know that 'around' means he'll seek me out. And I'll be waiting for him this time.

I turn to my food, before looking back at Kyle, "did you want to get something to eat while we're here to take back?"

"I already ate."

I nod, not at all surprised, and stand to dump my food in the nearest garbage can, before I follow Kyle out of the hall. We walk together in silence, and I allow Kyle to stay a few steps in front of me. But that's more for my benefit. I need time to think over everything Austin said to me, and to think over this feeling of apprehension I'm getting the closer and closer we get to our dorm.

I envy all the guys I see walking by, laughing, complaining about classes, like they don't have a care in the world. They're how I want to be, what I imagined I'd be once I got here.

Kyle unlocks our dorm room and lets himself in, I follow, and close it behind me, wincing at the sound it makes as it clicks shut. Kyle sits on his bed, resting his arms back and dangling his feet over. He isn't looking at me; instead he's looking out our window.

I place myself in my desk chair and wait for the tyrant to begin. But it doesn't. Kyle keeps staring out the window, and I keep staring at him. Finally I can't take the silence anymore.

"Well, aren't you going to say anything?" I question slightly on guard.

He takes a deep breath before turning to look back at me. "What do think I'm going to say?"

I scoff, "don't start off with a game Kyle. You're pissed as fuck at me, so lets not beat around the bush."

He looks back out the window again. "If you know I'm pissed, then you know why. I specifically asked you-"

"Yeah, I KNOW what you specifically asked me," I cut him off. "And now you know where I stand. Because I'll hang out with whoever I damn well please when you ABANDON me for three fucking hours!" It is now MY turn to yell at him. What he did was way shitty.

He takes a deep breath and stands up from his place on the bed. I watch, anticipating anything that would make me yell further as he walks toward the window. Instead, he opens it up, straddles it, and sits down, looking back at me. "You coming?"

I shake my head in annoyance, but end up walking over there and stepping out anyway. As I drop onto the cold roof, he takes a seat near the edge, staring up at the half moon.

"It got dark while I was away."

I sit down next to him and sigh angrily. "You were out the whole night," I remind him.

"I was," he agrees with a nod. "And sometimes that will happen." He turns and searches my eyes deeply. I can't help but feel all of my anger fade away. "But Stan, that doesn't mean anything. Don't forget where you're at. Don't forget who I am."

What? More crazy talk again. "I-I'm not," I respond unsurely.

"I don't want to lose you," he admits suddenly.

"Why would you lose me?"

"I...just remember you are my best friend, okay?"

"…That's not good enough," I respond. "If I'm really your best friend, you're gonna have to tell me what's going on here. I feel like there's this big secret everyone's in on except me, and Ky…you've changed. And I don't know if I like it."

"I haven't changed."

I snort, "yeah, you have. A lot."

"Fine, maybe I have. But that's what people do. I might not be the same guy from high school, but I'm still me, you can see that right?"

I don't answer.

"Right?" he repeats, leaning in towards me. As if getting closer physically will actually change how far apart from him I feel.

"I like that guy you were in high school. I see him sometimes, and he's who I'm here for," I admit.

"You're not the same guy either," he challenges.

I snort. "Yes I am. I'm exactly the same as you left me." He knows I'm right.

Sure enough, his smile indicates how he feels. "Yeah. Don't ever change, dude." He half grins at me, and I blush. Normally I'd make fun of him, sounding like a cliché yearbook quote, but...this time, it feels welcoming. If he doesn't want me to change, then maybe the stuff that's been going on hasn't been as bad as I've made it out to be.

Still, I grin. "You want me to stay a freshman forever? Then you'll have authority over me when you're an upperclassmen."

"That's the way I like it." He laughs and looks out toward the moon again. I feel my body muscles loosen and fall into the moment, rather than get even more worked up. This day has been stressful, to say the least.

- **i**_**BB**_ and _**f **_**G**


	4. IV The Intervention

**AN: **We had a HELL of a time writing this chapter. It was like we enjoyed tormenting each other. I especially enjoyed tormenting IBB. She's a slash fanatic through and through and it could be hard, yet entertaining, at times to reel her in with a, "no, not yet!" sort of mindset. At the same time she keeps me in check from letting things get TOO serious. This is SP after all and we would like to retain an essence of the show…no matter how minuscule. Anyway, thanks for the reviews everyone! You all keep reviewing and we'll keep writing like we have been! Enjoy chapter four:)

**The Reformation of Kyle Broflovski **

**IV. **The Intervention

"Howard's Garage. We'll look under your hood and test drive your body free of charge."

"Hey Ken," I say back, a little dejectedly. It's Sunday morning, and Kyle's gone. He was gone when I woke up. There's no note, but he doesn't have to leave one, I'm sure I know where he is. Where else would he be, other than with his good friend Miller?

It's already been a week, and I've successfully completed my first seven days here at JV. And when I say successfully, I mean academically. Socially, I guess I have a few people I could call friends, but Kyle and I…regardless of that talk we had last week on the roof, things haven't changed that much between us. I almost feel like they're getting worse, but it could just be my imagination.

"What are you doing right now?" I ask, lounging on my desk chair.

"This and that you know. What's up, did you need something?"

"…just wanted to talk I guess. It has been a week; you haven't called me or anything."

"I figured you'd be too busy with your best friend Kyle and your new awesome school. I didn't want to interrupt."

I rub the bridge of my nose. "Kenny, not this, not now."

"Not what?" he asks with false innocence.

"Guess I can't talk. I told you _I'd_ call _you_," I admit, trying to change the subject.

"Yeah, you did," he affirms. Then a pause. I wait for him to get angry with me for holding up my end of my promise. "What took you so long?" he follows with a hint of smile in his voice.

I smile back, though he can't see it. I miss his jokes--it seems like all I've got here is serious discussion after life-changing conversation from Kyle. He reads into too many things, and tries to get me to believe whatever the hell he's talking about...but he's so universal with his thoughts, I never can tell.

"I just wanted you to miss me so I could hear about how sad you are," I joke.

Kenny snorts. "Are you kidding? Without Marsh here in town, I've got TWICE the amount of hot girls that I already had! It's like I won the sex lottery or something."

"Nice, Ken," I say with mock sarcasm. "Glad to hear everything's good."

"How's Kyle doing? Better yet, how are you and Kyle doing?"

I pause, and the joyful mood I was feeling at joking with Kenny vanishes and I fall back into the pit of wallow I've been feeling the last few days.

"That good huh?" He says into the speaker after my moment of silence.

"Things…aren't what I was expecting."

"You must be jesting. The dynamic duo not getting along? Don't tell me I let Kyle have you only for you girls to be fighting the entire time?"

"He isn't the same Kenny."

"People change."

"Not like this they don't."

He hesitates, "…I see…can you hold on a second?"

"Yeah, sure," I sigh and slouch further in my chair. I wait, and listen to the background of wherever he is, and I suddenly frown when I hear the faint sound of a distant microwave.

"I'm back."

"Kenny."

"Yes Stan?"

"Are you popping popcorn?"

"I feel like you're about to tell me a dramatic story worthy of some."

"I wish you were within arm distance so I could hit you," I mutter, half-serious.

"Aw, a Stanley-brand patented love-tap. So sorry I can't be there." He takes a kernel into his mouth and chews very audibly. "Now, what's the problem?"

I sigh. Where do I begin? "The PROBLEM is that Kyle has fallen into this...this club that I'm still trying to figure out. It makes him do weird shit and disappear at random times."

Kenny pretends to gasp, but only succeeds in choking on the popcorn. I wait impatiently for him to stop wheezing before I continue.

"He snaps at me for every little thing and I feel like he'd rather hang out with other people than me," I list. I hear Kenny do his overdramatic gasp again.

"You mean to tell me he has more than just ONE friend, dear Stan?"

"He's got this weird douche bag of a friend, Miller," I say, ignoring Kenny's jabs.

"Jealous, are we?" he ventures, but I shoot that idea out of his perverted brain.

"Fuck no. He may think he's got everyone on this campus around his little finger, including Ky, but I see straight through him."

"No, you're not jealous at all," he replies, dripping with sarcasm. This treatment he's giving me is starting to piss me off.

"Kenny, I'm being SERIOUS!" I growl.

"Why are you growling at me, I assume you're being serious. But what you're telling me sounds like you're acting a bit clingy and whiny. Kyle's a bit different, so what, he's got new friends, it happens, you don't like his new friends, I expected that."

"You're making it sound like-"

"Sound like what Stan?" He finally stops chewing his damn popcorn, and I can hear his voice harden. "You call me after a week of no word to what? Vent about Kyle." He starts eating again, "and it's not even a good vent. Just a, my friend Kyle is getting sucked up by this secret society."

"That's what I've been trying to tell you! He is!"

"Yeah, okay Stan," he responds in such a matter that I can HEAR him rolling his eyes.

I growl even deeper. "He is."

"Right. And I'm president of the damn college."

"He IS, Kenny. I know it sounds crazy, and I can barely believe it myself, but this guy Austin told me its all happening before it actually happens and...I feel like I can't say too much without fear of being overheard. Who knows where Kyle went," I whisper, looking around the room suspiciously. He could be tapping this conversation right now to listen for anything I say about the HHS.

"...I think he probably went to breakfast with his other friends, Stan. It is early, after all."

"You don't believe me," I tell him, not really asking a question.

Kenny sighs, crunching one last popcorn and swallowing it. "Okay, Stan. I'll humor you. Say I believe you, and say that Kyle is really getting involved in something that is self-destructing in five minutes. What are you gonna do about it?"

"Well, I'm going to…" I trail off, realizing I don't know what I'm going to do. I hadn't thought that far ahead.

"Exactly," he answers. "You don't have a clue, lucky for you it's probably nothing."

"You're wrong," I hiss.

"How'd you jump to this conclusion anyway, just Kyle acting off?"

"No, I told you this guy Austin told me all this other stuff. He said the same thing happened with his friend, and – why the hell am I bothering to tell you if you don't believe me?" I snarl.

"Because I'm humoring you, it's the nature of the word. Continue."

A little bit reluctantly I tell him everything Austin told me, quietly though, just in case I am being overheard. So maybe Kyle might not go as far as to wire tap the room, but not even he is beyond simple eavesdropping. I finish my story and wait for Kenny's reaction.

"So this Austin guy told you all that?"

"Yeah, insane isn't it?"

"Exactly what I was thinking. Stan, he's your problem."

"Huh?" I question confused.

"You need to stop hanging around that damn Austin kid, he's completely fucked up in the head, and he seems to be fucking you up with him."

I want to cry out in aggravation. This must be what Austin has to go through every time he opens his mouth. People thinking he's out of his mind, I can't take this! Especially when, of all people, Kenny doesn't believe me.

"I'm going to prove it," I seethe out.

"How?" He questions, with a hint of boredom in his tone.

"I don't know how…yet, but when I do I'll call you back"

"I won't hold my breath," Kenny replies lazily. "Listen, man, you seem stressed. Is that school getting to you? If so, you know where you can always go..."

I take a deep breath and groan out of frustration. "I AM stressed, no, it's not the school, yes, I know where I can go, no, I'm not going to give up," I ramble off.

"Okay, just checking!" he exclaims defensively. "So when you think I can come up?"

Just then, I hear footsteps and deep laughter. I look around to see the doorknob turning. "Not sure yet, I'll let you know I gotta go, Kenny, BYE!" I manage to hide the phone just in the knick of time.

Kyle enters, dressed in something far too formal for a Sunday morning brunch. "Hey Stan!" he greets enthusiastically. He turns to the guy behind him who, for once, is not Miller. "This is the guy I'm talking about. Stan?"

My ears perk up.

"This is Jason. He's studying architecture too!"

"Oh…how nice," I smile at the guy and watch him offer a hand. "Nice to meet you," we say at the same time. Taking my hand back I shove it and my other in my pants pockets. "So what are you guys up to, where were you guys?" I ask looking them over.

"Nowhere important, just a brunch," Kyle waves it off. "You were still asleep."

I have a feeling that even if I hadn't been asleep I wouldn't have been invited to this unimportant brunch.

"So Stan," Jason takes over, almost as of he's rescuing Kyle from my questions. "What got you into architecture?"

"Buildings," I respond. I can be just as blunt and vague as Kyle can. "What about you?"

He looks at Kyle awkwardly before plastering on a smile, "when I was little my parents took me to Florence, and there I saw Brunelleschi's dome of Santa Maria del Fiore. I fell in love with architecture after that."

I try not to seem too interested. Even I, a kid from South Park, Colorado, know the importance of that dome. It's a masterpiece, and anyone involved in architecture would know that. I can easily admit that I'm a little jealous. Who knows if I'll ever get to see something like the del Fiore. Kyle looks confused, obviously he hasn't heard of it, but at the same time he seems pleased. Almost as if he's happy I finally like one of his friends.

And I do. Even though this guy has the makings of another Miller, I don't feel like challenging him with my own knowledge. So I guess that makes him tolerable, right?

"I'd like to make it overseas sometime," I casually mention, and I see Kyle smile. His arms are crossed over his chest, and he's leaning on a structural support beam on the side of our room.

"You've never been? Oh, its absolutely breathtaking!" Jason rambles on and on about the beauty and poise of the European cities. I smile and nod a lot, putting in my two cents here and there.

Just as he takes a seat in my computer desk chair, and I lean back into my bed again, Kyle's stance changes. His head turns, and he uncrosses his arms. His body language tells me someone else is coming. And sure enough, I'm right.

I stare numbly at Kyle as his grin forms a greeting, only this Jason kid is too loud--he's actually drowning Kyle's words out. Miller steps in the room and half-hugs, half-pats Kyle's back, and they begin a conversation of their own.

Jason continues with his ideas about European architecture, but I no longer have any interest in what he has to say. My eyes are glued to Kyle and Miller. Jason nudges me and I look over at him annoyed.

He smirks, "you know, it's impolite to look elsewhere when someone's talking to you."

Damn him, that makes me a feel a little bad. It's not his fault I can't stand the sight of Kyle and Miller in the same room. I reluctantly turn my attention back to him, and I honestly do try to concentrate on what he has to say, but I'm getting that annoying itch where all I want to do is glance real quick over at the other two in the room.

"You're still not listening."

Shit, well I heard that. I smile meekly at him and actually focus on what he's saying rather than just looking at him and nodding dumbly. "Sorry."

He looks over at Kyle and Miller before looking back at me, "you really don't like Mill do you?"

"No, not really," I answer bluntly.

Jason laughs, "you are one of the first. I can admire that," he grins and I start to grin back. Hell, this guy really isn't half bad. Curiously I watch him lean in and whisper, "You know, when I first met Miller, I couldn't for the life of me stand the guy. He totally rubbed me the wrong way."

I've clearly met my equal.

"Yeah?" I ask, my interest peaked, and my attention momentarily diverted.

"Well yeah. I mean, look at him!" I do, and he quickly jolts his head in my way. "He's got everything going for him; in short, he's got the perfect life. And he's almost too perfect. Those kind of guys piss me off."

I frown. "That's not why I don't like him."

Jason shakes his head and wheels my chair over to the side of the room so that I have to follow him. This also makes it so that I can't see Kyle and Miller. In the process, however, I see Kyle bend down and search for something in his desk.

"Right, I'm sure there's other reasons, Stan. I hated that he was _always_ there."

"Exactly," I agree, mumbling.

Jason bites his lip. "But that's actually an advantage. Once you get to know the guy, you'll be in good with him for life. He's always got your back, he's-"

Oh Christ, another drone. Another brainwashed zombie here to do Miller's bidding. I feel a pang of sadness, because I could see myself liking this Jason kid. But he's just another one of them. He's an enemy. I deliberately stop listening to find out what's going on with Kyle.

"What's he doing?" I say, ignoring Jason's praises.

He suddenly blocks my line of view and I look at him surprised. What the hell is he doing? It's almost like he's purposely…I shove him aside, glaring and whip my head over to Kyle and Miller, just in time to see Kyle pass Miller something discreetly.

I'm only able to get a short look before it disappears in Millers coat. It looked like a notebook, and the two of them continue talking to each other, like there was no such movement. I look down at Jason and he at least has the fucking balls to look slightly ashamed.

Behind us, Miller clears his throat and I watch in anger as Jason rises. He avoids my eyes and retreats to Millers side. "Nice talking to you Stan, we'll have to do it again," he says quietly. "See you Kyle," he continues and I listen as Kyle makes his goodbyes before hearing the two of them leave.

"You fucker," I seethe out at Kyle and he jumps surprised.

"Wh-what the hell did I do?!"

I can't believe he still wants to act like he didn't do anything. Like nothing just happened, like that wasn't some fucking planned distraction!

"You brought in that guy, Jason," I spit out his name. "To distract me. You know what Kyle, if you didn't want me to know about that fucking notebook you should have just asked me to go get you a drink from the vending machine. Would've been less elaborate, but it sure as hell would have been less suspicious!"

"Suspicious?" he asks oh-so-innocently.

"ARGH!" I yell, throwing my hands up and retreating to my side of the room. I fall back onto my bed and stare into the ceiling.

"Stan, I think it's time that you give my friends a chance. They mean no harm, and I am rather sick of you constantly competing for my attention-"

I place my headphones on and skip to the next angry song I can find. Turning the volume up full blast, I rock out on my bed, infuriating Kyle that I just cut him off like that. I see him storm over to my bed.

He pulls the headphones out of my ear. "What the FUCK, dude? You just INTERRUPTED me!" he screams, looking like he's ready to have a seizure. Or a tantrum, I'm not really sure.

"Yeah, I did," I mutter. "Get the fuck off my bed." I grab the wires from his hands and place them in my ear once more.

He pulls them out again. "You NEVER do that to me!"

That's it. I'm not playing this game. My body springs up to a sitting position so that I'm inches away from his face. "YOU NEVER KEEP SECRETS FROM ME!" I roar.

He blinks in response, and I remain in that very position until he has the decency to explain to me what the hell is going on. Only I know he won't. I've learned that much by now. He'll only sideswipe it with some obscure comment about something random.

Much to my surprise, his eyes glaze over, crestfallen. "Y-you can't possibly understand how hard that is," he tells me, switching tactics.

"You're right. I don't, because you tell me _nothing_," I steal the headphones back from him and plop them back in my ears before swinging my legs over the side of my bed and standing. I think I need to be away from him for a while.

I grab my wallet, my keys to the dorm and head out the door, all the while ignoring Kyle. Not that he said anything. He stood and watched me the whole time. Closing the door I walk down the hallway, noticing that as I pass the main stairwell I can see Miller hanging beside them, talking to Jason.

Jason catches my eye and grabs Miller's attention. They both look at me and rather than any verbal conversation I merely flick them off and continue down the hallway to the back stairway. Pushing through I step to the side and rather than head downstairs, I lean against the wall and slide down, letting out a long shaky sigh.

Kyle and I don't fight like this. Not so much that I'm shaking anyway. I take out the headphones irritably and toss them beside me. All the anger I had moments ago seeps out of me, and all I'm left with is this heavy depression. I wish I could keep being angry with Kyle, but it's only starting to upset me. Not that I'm going to cry about it or anything, but I'm starting to want to. Because getting angry, and yelling and screaming at Kyle isn't helping matters, nothing is changing. I'm not sure what to do here. I'm out of my element.

"Don't you look like a pathetic mess."

I look up and see Austin looking down at me. He's carrying a few books and a notebook.

"Were you in a study room?" I say as my way of response.

"No, library. What's up?"

"Oh you know, usual. Kyle lying about shit again and doing it to my face. I even called a good friend back home and told him all about things here; he thinks I'm full of it. He thinks you're full of it."

"Ouch," he responds and leans against the wall, but remains standing. "First rule about this whole matter, you shouldn't tell people who don't aren't around to see it. It only makes you sound crazy."

"There's rules, what are we a resistance group?"

Austin snorts. "That's almost a good idea," he mutters. "Anyway, tough luck with Kyle, but if you love him, you'll keep at it. Don't let him end up like Jason."

"Jason?" I question confused. "You mean Danny?"

"Oh," Austin stops. He was about ready to head on his way. "His first name was Jason Daniel, I called him Danny to piss him off," he smiles sadly. "See you around Stan."

"Yeah," I say distractedly. "See ya."

As I observe the figure of Austin's retreating backside, I feel the fury flare up inside of me once more. So! That Jason used to be Austin's Danny. Now he's just as useless as a deaf singer. I'm SICK of this club, I'm SICK of getting shunned for not falling for it. I'm SICK of feeling this far from the truth...and it's only been a week! What the hell am I going to do for the rest of the year? How the hell will I survive?

I gather my headphones and mp3 player, heading full force back to where I saw Miller and Danny. Jeez, I can't even call him Danny anymore--it's like he's mutated into some unrecognizable creature.

"Yo Miller!" I yell, catching the guys' attention. Sure enough, they're in the very same stairway, talking about whatever it is they talk about.

He looks at me with unexpected relief. Perhaps he thought I was trying to be friendly with him? I march up him until we're about as close as what Ky and I were a few minutes before.

"I don't know what you and your mind-numbing sidekick have in store for _my_ Ky, but you better think twice before you do it. No friend of _mine_ is going to succumb to this shit!" I can't bring myself to call them cult activists, but that's exactly what I'm thinking.

Miller chuckles that annoying chuckle parents give to each other when their child has asked a silly question that they have to answer. He looks to Jason, who, in turn, nods and climbs the flight of stairs to shut the door above us. I watch him in awe as he then walks around us to shut the door at the bottom. I start to shake again--this time for an entirely different reason.

Miller brings his face even closer. "Stan, you have no idea who you're dealing with here."

I can't help but stutter. "I-I...I know that Kyle is better than this! And I know that he's acting different!"

"Are you afraid of change, Stan?" Jason asks.

I glare at him and narrow my eyes. "I'm not afraid of _anything_, Danny." Uh oh, big mistake.

His eyes narrow back slightly, before he smirks. "Danny? Well, I haven't been called that in awhile. So Kyle is right, you're talking to Austin, are you?"

"And if I am?" I challenge, finding my fighting voice. It may be two against one, and I may…be locked in a stairway with these guys, but now is not the time to cower down.

"Hasn't Kyle told you what a mixed up person he is?" Miller questions, softly eyeing me head on. "He talks a lot, and he has issues getting his facts right."

I snort, "actually it seems to me like he's the only one with his head screwed on right in this entire school. He's a good guy, and knows what he's talking about." I turn to Jason, "you should know that."

Other than blinking, he looks completely unaffected by my words. In fact he looks calm as he looks me up and down. "He's going to be such a challenge Miller," Jason suddenly says, though he's looking at me.

Looking at Miller I watch him nod, almost bored. "But he's different. I don't think I've been this amused in awhile."

What the fuck are they talking about? Are they talking about me, or Kyle? No…it's gotta be me by the way Miller is looking at me.

Miller starts walking towards me, leading me backwards until I run into a wall. But it's not a wall at all. It's Jason, who's somehow moved from the front of me to the back of me in record time. He puts his hands on my shoulders and I swivel my head to see both of their expressions at once. Jason is smiling as Miller raises his eyebrows.

"Kyle picks them well, doesn't he?" Jason smirks, hands still on me. I look into his beady eyes with such disdain. I've never hated someone more than I do right now.

Miller stretches his arms and puts a hand on Jason's. "Stay calm, Jason."

I turn to glare at Miller. "You'll never win me over, asshole. Don't _think_ I'm going to back down."

Miller rolls his eyes. "You're lucky Kyle speaks so highly of you."

"Yeah. He's just as stubborn as you," Jason chimes in, releasing my shoulder at Miller's silent eye command.

"Let's leave him alone, Jason. We've got better things to do." And like that, they step away and leave the stairway. The door shuts behind them, and I'm left with wondering _what the fuck?!_ Now I'm REALLY confused.

"Oh, and Stan?" Miller peeps his head back through the door and I snap my head back toward him. "If you don't want to lose Kyle to me completely, I'd stop trying to find faults in who I am."

Bastard. I clench my fists together as he leaves again. I hate it. I hate it so much because he speaks the truth. I know if I keep digging, and pestering Kyle about Miller, and about how he's acting I know he'll only push away from me. He's doing it now.

But fuck! I can't just leave things laying down like this. If anything my curiosity and determination has sparked even more. I can't possibly leave things alone. Maybe I'll back off…I snort. Make that 'I'll pretend to back off', but like Austin said, I can't lose Kyle to this.

…whatever THIS is. Shit! I don't even know what I'm up against.

-

I guess it was stupid of me to expect Kyle to be in the room when I came back earlier this morning. It's not like he stays more than the nights inside of it. I kind of needed some time to cool off anyway, so I was a bit relieved to find the room empty.

But now that it is nearing 10:00...and I haven't seen him all day except for that one instance when he was with his buddies...I'm starting to get worried. I worry because I wonder if I've already lost him. I know there's a strong possibility that I can see him through it, but they're right. He's so damn stubborn; I have to think of something drastic. I've decided to look Austin up tomorrow after school to talk it over with him. Maybe he's had some ideas that didn't work on Danny. If Kyle's still pulling for me with the HHS, then he hasn't completely forgotten who I am.

I lay on my bed, pondering all of these intense scenarios when suddenly, the door flies open and my roommate appears, looking flustered. I sit up as he looks around the room and then looks directly at me, coming over.

He sits down on the edge of my bed and stares at me, not saying anything. His eyes seem sad, but they also look hollow to me.

I say nothing in return.

I watch as he reaches out and slowly pulls on my bangs, before dropping his hand back to his side like a dead weight.

"This is all for the best," he suddenly says softly.

I still say nothing in response, even though my mind is racing with what he means by that, and looking at him now, I wonder if what he said was really even directed at me. It may have just been a thought out loud.

"Stan?" He questions and I watch as he blinks the life back into his eyes, and I can confidently think that he's now truly looking at me.

"Yeah?"

He suddenly pulls me in for a tight hug and I tense before melting slowly and hesitantly wrapping companionable arms around him. "Kyle?" I mutter quietly.

"This is all for the best," he repeats what he said earlier. "You'll see. This way we can be together forever…"

Whoa. What? I don't like the way he put that, and, against my inner voice, I push away and peel him off me. "What does that mean?" I ask.

"You'll see," he repeats, gazing at me in a manner I can't quite decode.

"Kyle, snap out of this!" I urge, placing my hands around his shoulders. That instance where I could see the true him has faded, and it is replaced with this vacant look. His eyes seem glazed over--I swear to God if those fucking assholes did anything to hurt my Kyle-

"Will you be available for dinner tomorrow evening?" he interrupts, asking about as polite as you could.

"I-I..." I stutter, unable to answer him. Part of me doesn't want to eat with him because it's like eating with a brick wall. One who says creepy things and hides your best friend away. On top of that, I was hoping to scope out the scene for Austin tomorrow. Get some more real answers. Make my own connections, and try to bring Kyle back.

"I feel terrible to leave you by yourself at dinnertime every evening. I want to make that up to you."

I know that if I say yes, it won't be just the two of us. It'll be the attack of the drones, part II. And I've had enough of that. "It's cool, I think I'm going to hang out in the room, get some work done."

Kyle shrugs out of my grip and rises from my bed. "The hell you will," he says calmly. "You'll just invite your new buddy Austin over, won't you?"

Am I that obvious?

"No," I lie. "I just think I should spend some time on my homework."

He snorts, "what does that prick say about me anyway, I know he doesn't like me."

"He's not a prick," I snap at him. "And he doesn't say anything about you."

"Right," Kyle scoffs out.

"He doesn't, because you should know I wouldn't allow it. The only one that can talk shit about you is me…and to some lesser extent, Kenny." I thought…I thought for sure he would smile then. But he doesn't, instead he only shakes his head, as if I'm making a huge mistake I'll regret.

"You and him real close now, are you?" he presses, walking to his side of the room.

I take a deep breath, balling my fists. "Kyle, he's one of the only guys who talk to me. Because even though you talk about me to so many of your _friends_, no one ever seems to want to get to know me!" By this time I'm standing, walking toward him.

"Maybe if you gave us a chance to show you-"

"I don't want you to show me anything!" I cry. I want my best friend back. "Austin's not the one who doesn't like you—you're the one that doesn't like anyone who's not part of that damn club!"

Kyle's nostrils flare and he pauses pretending to do something to glare daggers at me. He purses his lips together and his color turns to a dark red. I think he forgot to breath. He looks terrifyingly pissed off and intimidating.

"Including me," I add, not bowing down.

His stance remains, and I see his forearms flex. Flex with a pent-up kind of rage I always knew he had in him, but apparently South Park was keeping it healthily in check. "Who said this had anything to do with a club?" He pauses, as if containing himself. "Who told you about the HHS?" He seethes out and it's then that I want to bite my own damn tongue. How could I have forgotten that as far as Kyle knew I didn't know anything about the HHS?

Yeah, I knew of its existence, he told me, but he didn't know that I knew he was in it. Up until now he's probably thought I was completely in the dark about his whereabouts and his links to Miller and more recently, Jason. "It was Austin wasn't it?" He continues.

"No it wasn't Austin," I sigh internally that I at least don't have to lie about this. "You told me, remember? On my first day. You snapped me for thinking of it as an ordinary honor society."

I can pat myself on the back for averting that o-

Kyle cuts off my thoughts, "but who told you I was in it? I never told you I was."

I'm silent for a second as my thoughts race and I try to think of something other than the truth. I don't want to incriminate Austin even more than he already is.

"It's…obvious Kyle," I finally answer. "You must know how popular that club is, all the guys around here talk about it all the time and how they can join. It wasn't hard for me to pick up on who was a member and who wasn't. Some of you guys are practically treated like royalty here."

"That's absurd!" he cries in mock-disbelief. With both his intelligence and intuition, he has to know that he's exalted. "We're just fortunate to be a talented group of individuals unified by a single bond!"

"Yeah." I snort. "And who the hell talks like that? I know you're all-genius or whatever, but you _never_ felt the need to _show_ it before. Why are you acting like you're better than me?"

He cackles, over exaggerating the skepticism in his voice. "Stan, I've never acted that way."

"You're right," I agree, folding my arms and nodding. He looks satisfied before I finish. "Until now."

He looks back up at me through bored and exasperated eyes. "I'm going to bed."

"No, you're not gonna put me off like this!" I yell, walking over to him and getting up close and personal. "Tell me what's going on," I demand.

"Get out of my face," he mutters.

"_Tell me_ you aren't falling for some fucking cult _again_, Kyle," I begin.

"SHUT THE _HELL_ UP, STAN!" he screams, shoving me with his surprisingly muscular arms. I take a step backwards and am right back again.

"Do you always get this angry when you know someone is right?" I persist, his eyes narrowing to tiny slivers right before my eyes.

"You don't know what you're talking about," he bites back, grinding his teeth. "Go to bed, Stan."

I look into his eyes a few moments longer, trying to decipher the old Kyle behind the head of steam. I can't make out a trace of him anywhere, and that terrifies me. I know when to give up before things get messy. I nod tolerantly and step back to my side of the room.

Not surprisingly getting ready for bed is a silent affair. I may have let things go, but there is no way in hell that I'm at all satisfied with how that argument ended. How could I be? While Ky and I have had our fights they've never been physical. I'm not sure what our friendship would be like if we had one with how strained things are now.

As I wash my face in the bathroom, alone, ignoring the other guys around me, I stare at my wet face in the long mirror.

Kyle shoved me. That bastard pushed me. That bastard is not my friend. I don't know where he is, but frankly I'm damn tired of not knowing. I want Kyle back and I have every intention on getting him back.

…_say that Kyle is really getting involved in something that is self-destructing in five minutes. What are you gonna do about it?_

Did I really only have that conversation with Kenny this morning? It feels like days ago. But he was right to question me. What am I going to do about it? This is getting ridiculous. The way he's acting, treating me. It can't keep going on like this; I won't allow it.

I have to think of something. I have to get my best friend back to normal. But how?

"But how, what?"

I focus on a guy that lives a few doors down from Kyle and me. Did I say that out loud?

"Oh, nothing," I shrug off and gather my things to head back to the room.

When I get back in the dorm room the lights off, and Kyle is sleeping in his bed. I put away my things and climb into my own bed only to stare at Kyle faking it in the dark.

Of _course_ he isn't sleeping! He talked about Miller never sleeping, and joking or not, I think he really _doesn't_ sleep. And this fucking cult has Kyle on edge too. How could anyone think this is possibly healthy? How could anyone want to be a part of something so…damaging? To your mind? Your own freedom of thought? Kyle, of all people, should be someone who'd want to keep a piece of who they are. He spent all his life fighting others about who he was, and proud to accept his heritage and nerdy-ness even when his friends bailed on him.

It doesn't make any sense to me. Ky is one of the strongest-willed people I know. He's got an amazingly sarcastic outlook on life that transfers over to his sense of humor—that's one of the things I love about him. _My_ friend would laugh at the whole institution of this stupid 'society', and make fun of the very foundations of its principles. Fuck if I know what they do, but it can't be _that_ spectacular.

I stuff my pillow into a ball behind my neck and lay my head into my arms. When did life get so tough? About the same time I hung up the community college sweatshirt and ventured here. To JV. Kyle's school.

Fuck this. Kyle invited me out here! And for whatever reason, I don't know, but damned if I'm going to let him FORGET that.

Eventually, the contemplation of Operation: Rescue Kyle wears me out, and I catch myself zoning in and out. This seems to go on for the better part of an hour, but I continue to jerk myself back awake. I peer at the clock, and note that is 11:47. Last Sunday, Kyle left around this time. I freeze all of my thoughts and just wait for it to happen again.

Which is why I'm not all that surprised when a few minutes later, that's exactly what occurs. I clamp my eyes shut and instruct my body to breath normally, and listen for sounds. I hear Kyle creak pull out his desk drawer and sift through papers before it creaks closed, and he exits the room. I wait a few moments to be sure he doesn't return, thinking he forgot something. When he doesn't, I toss my covers off and make a dive for my jeans. I have to hurry; if I stall too much I won't be able to follow him. Which is exactly what I plan on doing.

In order to help Kyle and get him back to who I know he is, somewhere deep in that other guy, I have to know what's going on. And since he won't fucking tell me, I'll just have to find out myself. I have to know where he sneaks off to all the time. I can put two and two together and assume it has something to do with that "honors society", but I can't for the life of me figure out what exactly.

Just what the hell do they do this late at night every Sunday?

Dumping on a sweatshirt and tying my laces faster than I thought possible, I snatch my keys from my desk and rush over to the door. I open it slowly, just in case Kyle's in the hallway. He's not. Shit!

He could have gone two possible directions. Down the main stairwell, or down the back stairwell. Since the back stairwell is creepier this time of night, I'll bet money he went down that way. I turn around to make sure the door's locked before heading down the hallway.

I pull my hood up and push away the nerves and guilt I have at choosing to follow Kyle. I wouldn't normally do something like this. Normally I trust Kyle; normally I know he'll pull through in the end…

Then again, Kyle isn't normally this out of character. He doesn't hide secrets from me, he isn't moody, and he doesn't shove me.

No. This is for Kyle's good. And if I want to deal with him, I'll have to deal with that damn club of his. It's about time I intervened with this fucking High Honors Society.

Slowly, I push open the door to the stairwell and listen for sounds of feet. Nothing! Crap. I rush down the stairs and push the door that opens to the outside, where the dark courtyard is barely illuminated by the well-designed lamps.

This makes me slam my head against the side of the building. DAMN! I took too long getting ready. Kyle is nowhere in sight. Hitting the building with a fist, I go back inside and retreat back to the dorm room.

So things didn't pan out this time. Next time. Next time I'll be ready. I'll be more prepared, have my clothes on, rather than having to take the time to change. Next time when I follow Kyle, I won't lose him.

- **i**_**BB**_ and _**f **_**G**


	5. V The Realization

**AN: **Hi guys! Instead of my author's note, I forced IBB to write one for once!  
**IBB here**: We've posted yet another information-filled chapter for you to absorb, so have at it! Thanks to those of you who review--the answers to your most burning questions are being revealed as you read. There is quite a bit of a tug-of-war going on between FG and I on when there will be some slash, but it is this chapter that begins an even more complex plot. Enjoy.

**The Reformation of Kyle Broflovski**

**V. **The Realization

I roll over discreetly so that I'm facing them as soon as they come in. Pulling my comforter down from my eyes, I spy them making their way to Kyle's bed.

Another night where I've 'went to bed' before he even comes in for the night. This has become so constant that I expect it. But this time, he's not alone.

"You sure he's asleep?" Miller whispers.

"He's been out like a light by 10 every single day this week," Kyle replies. I watch through squinted eyes as he saunters over to this bed, persuading Miller to follow with his hand gesture.

"This would be better if he weren't here, Kyle," Miller informs him, and Kyle shrugs.

"At least we're alone."

I feel my foot beginning to twitch, and I have to coach myself to stop shaking. My stomach tightens into an enormous knot that spans from my heart to my intestines, and I clench my teeth. In what little moonlight trickles in from our window, I make out two silhouettes sitting dangerously close to each other.

"How does it look?" I hear Kyle ask, his voice the way he sounded back when _we_ were friends.

Miller reaches up and brushes a curl away from his face. He leans in to examine whatever it is closely, and rubs Kyle's forehead. "It's just a scratch. You really ought to be more careful, Ky."

UGH! _Nobody_ calls him Ky except for me! Especially not that prick who's touching his face right now!

"Yeah," Kyle agrees. Suddenly, he brings his hand up and rests it on top of Miller's. "Thanks for taking care of me, Mill." As the time goes on, my vision adjusts to the dark, and I watch as Kyle grasps Miller's hand and takes it off his forehead, resting it on his knee.

"My pleasure," Miller responds in a mischievous tone I don't like. He takes this opportunity to rest his other hand on Kyle's right cheek. I feel my own cheeks flush and I know my eyes are wide open now. I hope they look over and see me.

"Miller, I don't think…" Kyle trails off slowly as I watch Miller lean in closer to him.

How can they not see me?! I'm practically drilling holes in their heads, which are inching closer by the second. I knew these two were close, but…but – Fuck!

I squeeze my eyes shut just as their lips meet. No way. No fucking way. I can't look at something like that and yet…my eyes open on their own accord. It's like a horror film where you don't want to see what happens, but you can't help it. And as much as I don't want to see them kiss, I can't help but stare. Stare at how _my_ friend wraps his arm around another man's shoulders. How he can't keep his hands from exploring the guy's upper arm, chest, and side. How he falls backwards onto the bed as the other man crawls on top of him.

Kyle and I haven't been getting along the past few days. We've been avoiding each other, and ignoring one another, and I know he's been spending a lot more time with Miller lately, but like this?

He wouldn't…not when I…

I feel a stabbing pain in my chest, and then it drifts to my side. Pain that won't stop poking at me, making me feel worse than I already do. I don't like this pain, but I feel like I've felt it before.

"Dude, wake up!"

I hear a voice hiss and the pain increases ten fold causing me to jolt up in a yelp. I whip my head to the side and glare at the guy sitting next to me.

Wait…oh shit.

"You gotta pay attention to this, man," my neighbor continues. "He said it'll be on the test next Monday!"

Test? Monday? When did he mention anything about that? Man, I've got to stop falling asleep in my classes. I can't help it though—I barely get enough winks a night to qualify as a catnap. I've gotta make up for it somehow.

I shake my head briskly to knock out any tired feelings (and any disturbing thoughts) out of my head, and strain to refocus on our 'teacher'.

Did I really just…did they really…THAT FELT SO REAL! I never even _considered_ that but, now that I think about it…Kenny's always telling me that dreams are worth something, and he's got this book of dreams cause he's big on that sort of thing. He always says, "78 of the things we dream about have a connection to real life," quoted directly from the back cover. If that's true…what am I missing here? Is _that_ why Miller recruited Kyle? Are they…

"…Following Monday's exam, we will research our next speech, which is of a persuasion nature. And gentleman, I'm not talking about convincing your parents you need $500,000 for dorm costs. We're at a level now where I expect every speech to have some sort of realistic, mature quality to it. Let's follow in the footsteps of our great leaders born before us…"

I tune him out again. I have selective hearing when it comes to the guy that may or may not have a secret agenda with my best friend.

Rubbing my eyes my thoughts turn back to that dream. I rest my head on my elbow and glance over at my neighbor. He must have been poking my side to wake me up; that must have been the pain I felt in my dream. It probably had nothing to do with what I was witnessing between Kyle and Miller.

Not that, what I saw had been easy on the eyes. Looking back at Miller, I hope he can hear my internal dialogue, when I mentally scream at him to keep his paws off my friend. When he locks eyes with me for no more than a second I almost think he did hear me, but his eyes continue to scan over the class.

It wasn't even the fact that Ky had been making out with a guy that disturbs me. It's the fact that the guy was Miller, and that I even dreamt about it. That only reinforces my belief that those two spend entirely too much time together. But with the way things are now between Kyle and I…

"Hey Stan, you coming?"

Huh? I look up and see my neighbor and a few other guys from class all standing around me with their bags.

"Class is over dude, you can stop spacing out now," one of them grins and I give them a weak one back.

Damn, did I really tune out for the entire period? That's not good, but I suppose I can always get notes from one of them. I do remember something about a new speech, and at that my stomach does a small flip. I'm not looking forward to our first real presentation, but it has to be done, so I guess there's no point getting too over worked about it.

I grab my book bag and hoist it over my shoulder, taking a moment to grasp reality again. The guy to my left is gesturing for me to get up with his eyes, and there are several of them waiting for me. That would normally make me pretty happy, seeing that there are probably some cool people in this class, but I can't focus on that right now. I glance around the room in search for the culprit of my insanity, but he is nowhere to be found. What if he went to meet up with Kyle before his next class?

Damn it, I _really_ have to get that image out of my head. Finally, I stand up and walk over to my lingering classmates.

"You alright, Stan?" one of them asks me. I feel bad, because I haven't even attempted to learn anyone else's name. The only ones I know are Kyle, Austin, Miller, and now Jason.

"I'm fine," I shrug. "Thanks for waiting on me."

"Well, we have next class together too. I figured we could walk there together?" another informs me. He has short brown hair and friendly eyes—something I haven't come in contact with since I've been at JV. I take him up on his offer as the others kind of walk halfway then branch off to their respective locations. They all seem pretty harmless, but I decide it best to maintain my distance. Who knows where else Miller hides his followers?

Not that I want to be a loner here, and I don't want to brand anyone to the HHS when they're not, but I just cant put my heart into this school like Kyle can. Maybe it's because I'm starting to see what it really is. A rich college with too many secrets. Either way I do feel a little bad at being sometimes stand offish to some of the guys.

Some of them genuinely seem like nice people that just want to get to know me, but after that stunt pulled on me when I realized who Jason really was and who he "worked" under? I can't imagine putting my trust in anyone here, save Austin.

The rest of the school day goes by without any incident and I don't see Kyle or Miller, or Jason for that matter. I do come across a couple of guys I assume to be in the HHS, based on the looks I'm getting, but other than that it's a pretty dull class day. Physics and Calculus go by as dull as they ever are, but my drafting and technical drawing class peak my mood a little.

It's when lunch rolls around that I start to feel a little on the apprehensive side. No matter how good Ky and I are at avoiding each other we always manage to run into one another during lunch. It's a small school and most people have lunch at the same time so it's inevitable that this is where we'd crash.

I wave a goodbye to the guys I walked with and scan the area for Austin. I never really manage to find him, but he always finds me.

"Hungry?"

I don't even jump; I'm too used to him showing up from nowhere. I simply turn and give him a smile. "Always," I say to Austin.

We go through the line together, picking out almost identical lunch items. Then we pay for our meals without saying one word except to nod and smile at each other to know we're still there. Picking our usual booth in the back, we hope to avoid stares and whispers…even though I'm not sure how well sitting in an isolated area can do that.

I do a quick scan of the room to make sure Kyle's nowhere in sight. Though, I'm not sure how much good _that_ will do either. He and Miller seemingly materialize out of thin air. As I situate myself on my side of the booth, I pay special attention to Austin as he inspects all of his food before taking a bite.

I frown. "What are you doing?"

"Just making sure."

"Making sure?" I raise my eyebrow and chomp down on my turkey on rye.

He pauses lifting the bread of his sandwich to glare at me. "They control everything, Stan. You can never be too careful."

"…Isn't that a bit extreme?"

He sighs. "Okay, so maybe I'm a bit paranoid. But after last night, I wouldn't put anything behind them." He decides his sandwich is okay and joins me in the feast. I want to ask what happened, but not really sure I want to know. I think he'll end up telling me anyway.

"What's up with you? You look like shit," he says instead.

"I feel like it."

"Did they raid your room too?"

I spit out my corn. "They **did **_**what**_?!?!?"

He nods. "Son-of-a-bitches. I'm going to have to set up some sort of goddamn alarm system soon."

"…uh, hold on…they _raided_ your room?" I question trying to calm down while trying to process what I've just been told.

Austin takes a big bite of sandwich and downs a huge gulp of his drink before answering. "Yeah."

"How? Why? How did they get away with that, are you sure it was them, what the fuck where they looking for?" I ask hurriedly as the questions pop into my head simultaneously.

"How? They probably have a key to every dorm room, why, I'm not sure. I don't know what they'd be looking for. But they know I don't fall for their innocent act, and they probably know I'd do everything I could to expose them. They're probably just trying to rile me up. As if I'd be stupid enough to leave anything incriminating against them in my goddamn room, for chrissake…" he mutters. "And I'm sure it was them, because they were nice enough to leave me a note."

"…they left you a note?" I whisper silently. "What did it say?"

He reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out a carefully folded note, before tossing it on the table toward me. I at once drop my sandwich, wipe my hands on my pants and quickly read the note.

_Warning number two to stay out of our business, you have one left, please keep to yourself Austin._

Beneath that is some sort of coat of arms, that's hard to make out exactly what the picture is, but it's the words that catch my attention the most.

"What do the words in the coat of arms say, it's not English is it?" I ask Austin and shaking, I hand his note back to him.

"No it's Latin, and it says 'death does not separate'," he answers and pockets it back in his pants.

Death does not separate…where have I heard that before? The words seem familiar; I've heard them from someone. Almost like…chanting. OH SHIT!

"JESUS CHRIST!" I yell, high above the inside voices we had been using, and slam my hand on the table. Austin looks at me strangely, and I feel my heart rate increase. Quickly checking myself, I lower my volume again. "The first weekend I was here, Ky was repeating that. Over and over in his sleep. You think that's like their…their pledge or something?"

"That's exactly what it is. And that's why I know it was them. Other than the fact of who else would break into my room?" He takes another bite and leans forward. "Stan, you realize what you're getting yourself into by hanging out with me. You're already in hot water with your buddy Kyle. There's a bunch of sh-"

"Kyle doesn't even know I exist anymore," I murmur, not giving my lips permission to do more.

At this, Austin's ears perk up. "Oh?"

"He's too busy with his new friend, Miller." I sneer as that dreadful name escapes my lips.

Austin sighs. "Yeah, that guy gets to the best of 'em." He ponders what he said for a moment. "Though I'm not really sure why he's taking a liking to Kyle. No offense."

This brings me back to that dream of the two, and I cringe at the possibility of their closeness. "Ky's one of a kind," I reply, absentmindedly.

"Then you need to keep him that way."

I look at him for elaboration. "How?"

"For starters, you should probably stay away from me."

My shoulders drop. "Look, if I have to lose the only friend I've made here to keep a part of Kyle here with me, then forget it. Besides, it looks like you could use someone to talk to. I can't imagine what this place would be like if everything and everyone hated me."

"That's exactly what it'll be like if you stick beside me, Stan."

Our eyes meet. "Then I guess I'll get to find out."

He smiles in that sort of disapproving way that says, 'well, I tired'. "Thanks," he tells me, even if he is shaking his head. "Though I still think you're sticking your head out for nothing," he continues as he goes back to his food.

"It's not for nothing," I respond and do the same. "What did your roommate say about the raid by the way?"

"I don't have a roommate," he answers with his mouth slightly filled with food.

"But I thought all the rooms were doubles except the upperclassmen dorms?"

"They are but," he raises an eyebrow after he's swallowed his food. "I'm not that popular, if you've already forgotten."

"Oh." I didn't really think about how…lonely his life here might be. If it wasn't for his major…wait, I don't even know what his major is. "Hey what's your major?"

He looks a little confused, probably at my sudden change of topic, but I'll explain later.

"Psychology, why do you ask?"

Psychology huh? I wrack my brain for what Kyle told me long before I came here about this school. It's well known for its Architecture, Communications, and Engineering departments, but I've never heard anything about the psych department.

"I was just wondering," I start slowly. "That psychology isn't a popular major here so, with the way you're treated by everyone, staff included…why do you stay? It's not like this place is known for psychology, why go through this bullshit everyday if you don't have to? Is this school a family school or something?"

"No," he says simply and looks off. I take in the direction his eyes are geared toward and I feel something in me sink when I see what he's looking at. It's the guys of the HHS, including Miller, Kyle, and Jason.

They've grabbed a table and along with a bunch of the other members they're all sitting down chatting, and even laughing, just like really good friends. It's almost as if those guys have known each other since they were kids…

Not surprisingly Miller and Kyle are next to each other, and Jason is on the other side of Miller, talking to a guy whose name I don't know. While my eyes are expectantly on Kyle and Miller, based on Austin's eyes I'd say his were on Jason's.

"It's ridiculous of me to even bother hoping, but I guess I stay for that asshole," he says in a way that even if Jason does deserve that title, he doesn't completely believe it. "I still kinda hope that one day he'll snap out of it, that he'll be Danny again. It's wishful stupid thinking, but if that does ever happen, I want to be around for it. No matter what he's done to me over the past few years I can't forget him. I mean that guy was my best friend."

"Yeah, Ky is mine too," I nod glumly. Wait. I said _is_ as opposed to _was_, which means that there is still hope for him. If Austin can stay here for his best bud when its clear to everyone that Danny is so far gone...then I have no reason to give up on the one guy I moved here for.

"Pretty crazy, huh? I mean, you've been here what, four weeks?" I nod. "And Kyle is already not the guy he was then. I don't know what goes on in those meetings, or what they promise each other. But something has a hold of them. If we can just get them to see that whatever it is, is not what they need in life…then he would be okay." He is still looking at Jason with a sad look on his face, and his words depress me. Because we don't know what we're up against.

I feel compassion for the guy sitting in front of me, but the only thing I can focus on are the two boys practically attached to each other on the other side of the cafeteria. Miller puts his arm around Kyle and points to something on the table, and I know it's not food. They huddle together talking about something amongst the other members, but they seem oblivious to their surroundings. Then, as Miller's arm drops, Kyle's eyes shift focus. He locks in on me, and gives me just about the dirtiest look I've ever seen _anyone_ give. I swallow loudly.

Just as quickly as it happens, he turns back to Miller and smiles warmly. Only it's not warm at all. It's the cold kind of stare you give someone when you have sold your soul to the fucking devil. I lean back in my booth, suddenly not hungry anymore.

"I'm going to get some dessert," Austin says, tearing his eyes from the show that's across the room from us. "Do you want something?"

"No thanks," I mutter, looking down.

From my peripheral vision I watch as Austin glances back at the HHS members before sighing and heading off toward the dessert buffet. With him gone I steal another stare at Kyle and Miller, only to want to kick myself for when I do.

They look far too cozy for my taste. Kyle and I were never like that as friends, I'm sure we weren't. I feel like he's rubbing his friendship with Miller in my face just to piss me off. But him and Miller and doing things we never did. I don't remember _ever_ leaning in that close to Kyle's face, and smiling at him with that wide fake ass grin. I don't recall touching Kyle…it's thirteen times now within a five-minute period. And I know, I know! I grind my teeth together, as I watch. I know I never touched Kyle on the knee like that.

Why can't Miller keep his hands to himself?! Is he some hormonal teenager?!

How could I've not noticed this before? This thing between Miller and Kyle…how could I have not seen what was going on? I didn't even know Kyle was…like that. And we've told each other everything! Is that the reason Miller wanted him?

I mentally scold myself. OF COURSE that's why Miller wants him! Goddammit, now not only is Ky a member of that damn club, he's also the lead guy's boyfriend?!?! What the hell! Is _this_ what the all-male schools do to you? Not that I mind, but if it's with _that_ fucker, then no thank you. And, while I'm at it, I'll do my damnedest to keep _my_ friend away from him too.

…A lot of good I'm doing sitting over here. Gathering up my nerves (and courage), I scoot out of the booth. Leaving all of my food, so that Austin knows I'm coming back, I head full-force over to their table. The closer I get, the weaker my knees get, and I feel like copping out completely. But as touch number fourteen occurs, I refuel with anger and don't look back.

Kyle breaks apart from his Miller-induced reverie to look at me in disbelief as I reach my destination.

"May we help you?" Miller asks snobbishly, and if it weren't for this being a public place, I'd beat the living shit out of that pretty face of his.

Kyle, for some reason, says nothing.

Now that I'm here…I'm unsure of what to do. I have no real reason to be over here, other than to get Miller away from Ky. But, what the hell, its not like this cafeteria is branded with places that I can and can't go, and this club doesn't intimidate me. As if reading my thoughts, Kyle shifts his body down a few inches (away from Miller). I lift my legs over the bench and plop down right between them.

I feel as if I've done the world's most…stupidest thing. Kyle looks as if he did in fact expect this of me, which in my mind says a lot. He knows me that well. But Miller, and not just Miller but the rest of his fan club, plus a good portion of the cafeteria stares at me as if I've done something utterly blasphemous. And God help me, I feel like I have.

But, it's too late now. I'm already sitting in the midst of HHS conversation and "territory" and since I'm here, and since I've made my statement the best thing to do is follow through.

Except that I'm not sure what to say. If I should say anything, that is. Okay, I need to think of something intelligent to say, something that will make everyone who's listening in understand where I'm coming from.

I open my mouth and wait for my remark to seep out…except…it doesn't.

"Close your mouth, you stupid fool," I hear Kyle say sounding almost bored. I do so, and look at him, surprised. This is the first real word he's said to me in days, granted it's nothing pleasant, but he's talking to me and that's what matters…right? "Do you think you can just plop down in protest and expect things to be as they were?" He continues, with his arm resting on the table and his eyes staring ahead at nothing.

"Kyle, I-"

"Go back to your own table; go back to your new best friend," he almost hisses, still not looking at me.

I stare at him incredulously. "My new best friend? Ky, I wouldn't even be eating with him if it weren't for you ignor-"

"You know how I feel about him," he reminds me as he plays with his fork.

I sigh. I really _am_ a stupid fool. What the hell am I doing here? I'm walking into the fight not knowing how to throw a punch. I'll get nowhere with this lazy, un-thought out tactic. And I think I might've just accomplished the opposite of what I wanted to do. I take a few moments before standing up and retreating back to the comfort of the lonely booth, now occupied by a thunderstruck Austin holding two ice cream sandwiches. He sees me approach and stands up immediately.

"I…they were all out of desserts so I got some ice cream…" he starts.

"Lets get out of here," I demand, grabbing my ice cream from his hands. Together we dump our trays off at the garbage and head back to his dorm room. He doesn't say a word to me and I don't slow down. I don't think I've even blinked since I got up from that table.

I throw my hands up to my face and fall back onto Austin's bed as soon as he unlocks his door. "UGH, I'M SUCH AN IDIOT!" I scream into my palms.

Austin huffs. "Yeah, that was pretty stupid. I leave you alone for two seconds, and what happens?" He sits down beside me. "Do I need to keep a leash around your neck?" I peek out over my hands and he's smiling at me; probably the first genuine smile he's had since I've been here.

"Probably," I mutter. "I'm not thinking a lot before I act."

"I've noticed," he says. I watch him as he starts to peel the wrapper off his ice cream sandwich. "What was that all about anyway?"

Just the thought of what I did sends me turning into Austin's comforter face first. I mumble out something knowing he won't be able to understand what I've said.

"Let me guess," I hear him. "You saw Miller making a pass at Kyle and thought it would be in your best interest to separate them. Without thinking you sit yourself down between them to forcibly set them apart. Upon your arrival your brain clicks back to life and you realize you have no idea why you did what you just did. You and Kyle exchange some fighting words, you flee and now we're here."

I raise my head slowly from my bed to stare at him eating away his ice cream. "Yeah…how'd you know that?"

"Why do you think I had the sudden urge for ice cream? I saw them before you did and I figured it was only a matter of time before you saw it as well. Thought it best to get out of there, while you attempted to do something about it. You didn't handle it as well as I imagined you would."

Gawking at him I watch as he nudges my ice cream in my direction. I crawl up from his bed and accept it. "You should meet my friend Kenny, you two would either get along really well, or you'd hate each other."

Austin smirks, "the rest wasn't that hard to figure out, the whole cafeteria was watching and listening." As he finishes his dessert and I start on mine, I'm starting to notice that he's closing off a little bit. "Which leads me to something I've been meaning to ask you, but until awhile ago I didn't think it was my place to pry."

"Hm, what is it?" I question curiously.

"Just…how close are you and Kyle?"

I blink at him, bewildered at his question. "You know we're best friends."

"Yeah, I got that, but," at this he stops to rub the back of his neck, like he'd rather not say what he's about to. "You should have seen the look on your face when you noticed what Mill was doing to Kyle. You looked…jealous, and not in the some-dude-is-stealing-my-best-bud jealous. If you get my drift?"

I purse my lips together and stare at him, contemplating what he's implying. "Well, I…"

He re-situates himself on the bed. And seeing that I'm look thoroughly perplexed by his insinuation, he eases me into his question. "You said you moved here for Kyle, right?"

"Yeah."

"And without him here, you'd really have no interest in JV, right?"

"Not with what's going on and everyone being psychotic cult worshipers!" I exclaim. I take an angry bite out of my ice cream.

Austin bites his lip and raises his eyebrows, nodding. "Okay…what if you _didn't_ know that everyone was that way?"

"I…I wouldn't be here."

"Because you're here for him," he tells me, guiding me through this increasingly awkward conversation.

"Yeah, well you said you're here for Danny!" I shout unexpectedly, a little on the defense.

Austin's eyes go wide in shock. "…Yeah…but…let's stick to _you_, Stan. Do you think that you could possibly hate Miller because he is winning over Kyle? And not just as a friend?"

I've decided that Austin sucks at subtlety. _And_ beating around the bush. "Are you asking me if I like Kyle?" I blurt out.

"I'm asking you if…" he pauses. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm asking if you like him."

I stare at my mostly eaten ice cream sandwich. To be honest I'm not that shocked he's finally gotten around to asking me this. I'm wondering more on what took him so long. He's that polite I guess.

Since Ky and I hit middle school people have always asked us if we were really just friends. Naturally back then, we were defensive and threatened to do bodily harm to people if they mocked how close we were. But after awhile we got used to it, and laughed it off. I mean, up until now we were damn near inseparable. People hardly said one of our names without saying the other.

It's almost always been Kyle and Stan, or Stan and Kyle. People might as well fuse our names together and call us Kyan and get it over with. Even so, even I can hardly ignore the fact that our friendship has taken an odd turn, and it was before Kyle came to JV. It was at the end of senior year. I think then, I started to…I don't want to say I felt different toward him, I just started to realize that maybe what everyone else had been saying all those years…that maybe it was all true.

But I've never told Kyle that. I'd never risk him hating me, or being disgusted with me. And looking at Austin's face, I'm sure if I told him anything he wouldn't care, but still…

"It…isn't like that," I say meeting his eyes slowly. "I don't get why two guys can't be really close friends and have that be all it is."

He doesn't look like he believes me, and I guard myself to prepare for his more pressing questions.

To my relief, his suspicious look melts away to a sympathetic one. "There are relationships out there like that." I think he's going to say a 'but', and thankfully, it never comes.

Due to the nature of this uncomfortable situation, I find it best not to linger on the topic any longer. I could ask him the same thing about Danny, but it's really none of my business. Besides, what's the point in knowing that? He cares about that guy; that much I can see.

"Stan," he quietly alerts me. "You've got to figure out a way to keep Kyle…before he changes his name, his hair color, practically his entire identity."

"Jason changed his hair color?" I ask, amazed at how far that society will go.

"No," he replies simply. "But you don't want Kyle to lose that beautiful auburn hair, do you?"

I laugh. "You know, he's the only guy I've ever known to look _good_ with red hair."

Austin smiles, and I think that was a trap. Of course I think Kyle's good looking—you'd have to be blind not to think so. I wish Miller was blind. Ugh, Miller. I never even knew there were people in this world called that, and already I hate the name. It's an automated response. Just like how his name now triggers that damn dream I had a few hours ago. Now I definitely _can't_ tell Austin about that. But maybe he can still help me.

"How do I get Kyle away from Miller?" I ask while my mind is on the subject.

"You mean the HHS?"

"Yeah. How do I get him away?"

"If I knew the answer to that, do you think I'd be sitting here without Danny?"

I take a deep breath. "Good point. Well, you don't have him, but I'm here. Maybe two people can work better than one to crack this, huh?"

"Hmm, maybe," he sounds a bit listless. Not necessarily that he doesn't believe me, but that he's a person who has already tried everything and has failed.

I shake my head, "no maybes man, we'll get Kyle, and Danny out of this."

"Danny?" He scoffs. "He's a hopeless case."

"You're not really going to give up on the guy are you?"

"There's only so long a person can hold on to something that isn't there. Danny is Jason now, and Jason belongs to the HHS. I can't do anything about it."

"But just earlier you said you were here hoping he'd come around."

"Hope is one thing, trying to physically change what he's become is another. I'll be more than happy to help you with Kyle, if that's what you want, but I can't save Danny," he stands from the bed and stretches his muscles. "The situation isn't like yours, even I can on occasion still see glimmers of your friend Kyle, I haven't seen those glimmers in Danny in over a year. Anyway," he says dropping his arms. "Do you want to sleep here for the night?"

At first I'm confused at why he would ask that, but it all quickly comes barreling back to me, "oh…yeah, thanks. Would you mind if I crashed here…maybe for a few days?"

"It's fine with me, I do have an extra unused bed. And it'll be nice to have a roommate again, even if it's temporary. But what about Kyle? Do you really want to leave him alone, when anyone could be in that room when you're not sleeping in it?"

I scratch a nonexistent itch on my shoulder, "I don't want to, but maybe it's better for us. It'll just be a few days and besides, things can't get any worse between us."

Austin gives me a contemplative look before shrugging, "if you say so. Come on, I'll help you carry your stuff."

**i**_**BB**_ and _**f **_**G**


	6. VI The Escape

**AN: **We're not going to lie. This happens to be18 pages of filler and yes we realize we got carried away. But! You get Kenny, and humor before things are dumped into the sea of darkness! So you really ought to enjoy these lighthearted moments. Oh, and by the way you dissers of Miller, I ADORE him, though IBB is on your side. She's more of an Austin fan, not that I don't love him as well…but, whatever happened to cheering for the villain?

**The Reformations of Kyle Broflovski**

**VI. **The Escape

I breathe in deep the familiar musty scent of Windermere 3, feeling like it was ages ago that I last stepped foot onto this floor. Staring at my door as if I'm waiting for it to open on its own, I finally grasp the knob and turn it.

Last time I came back, I was lucky. Bunking at Austin's has been great, but I'd forgotten the important things like a toothbrush, my class notes, and clothes. I thought I'd gathered everything _and_ managed to avoid meeting up with Ky when doing so, but I had forgotten one thing.

The door of course creaks as it opens, and I quickly peer around the room to make sure the coast is clear. I sigh in relief once again as I turn around and shut the door.. Quickly, I jog over to my side of the room, immediately noticing its emptiness. If I didn't know any better, I'd say Kyle doesn't have a roommate. I didn't clear _everything_ out, I mean, the bed is still made, but all of my stuff is either put away or in my temporary room. It feels barren. More so than the way I left it. He better not have touched my stuff.

"Where the hell is it?" I ask myself, searching through the emptied dresser drawers and my desk, which, except for a few stray papers, is clear. I curse audibly as I slam my fingers shut in the drawers, trying to hurry this process along.

It's just a damn cell phone charger. And if it weren't for Kenny or my mom, I wouldn't need the thing. But I'm tired of not having any communication with the outside world. Austin doesn't have a phone, and I don't have the money for the pay phones around. And it's been three days…by this time, I wouldn't be surprised to have a thousand panicked messages asking what happened to me.

"Where are you, you piece of shit?" I hiss, hoping the charger will hear me and jump out from wherever it's hiding. After trashing my side of the room I curse again. Where could I have put it? It should be on my desk. Sighing I turn to look at all of Kyle's things. Nothing has changed on his side of the room. You wouldn't even know things were different with him. Maybe I left it with his stuff…

I start to rummage through his things, trying to be careful about how I move his stuff. I'd rather him not notice I was looking through his possessions. The last thing I need is that. Moving aside a few of his textbooks, I sigh in relief when I find my charger hiding under some of his notes.

"How'd you get over here?" I ask the charger, before wrapping the cord around the adapter and carefully putting Kyle's things back where I found them. Looking around the room to be sure I haven't forgotten anything else, I freeze at the sound of the door opening.

Shit. I knew this would happen. Why should this be easy? It's not like my life here isn't complicated enough. I stand facing the window, with my back to the door and listen at the sound of the creaks, and hear as the footsteps of the owner halt at the doorway.

I close my eyes, and tighten my grip on my charger. "Just wait for it," I mutter quietly to myself.

"Dude will you hurry up?!" Austin snaps at me quietly. I jump in surprise and turn to look at him. He's looking rather impatient and a little rushed. "Why are you just standing there looking at the window? You can enjoy the view from my room, now come on before Kyle comes back."

"Never in my life have I been so damn happy to see you, rather than Kyle," I say as I bypass him.

He feigns a sincere look. "How touching. There'll be time to count your chickens later." He exchanges positions with me once we're out in the hallway so I can lock the door. We find it better to exit out the back entrance to try to avoid my evolving roomie, and also to get away from the hassle of questions I was flooded with from my neighbors the _first_ time I came back.

As we head back up the stairwell, Austin slaps me on the back. "You didn't forget anything else, did you?"

I smile. "That was it."

"Good, cause I'm not going to coach you into coming back yet again. That took well over a half-hour out of my day. And now I'm hungry." We reach the doorway to the seventh floor, but he doesn't open the door. "I'm in the mood for Italian. You in the mood for Italian?"

"Is that what they're having?"

Austin taps my charger. "Now that we've got that phone, we can have pretty much anything. They do deliveries here, you know."

I mull over this idea. "I've got one better. How do you feel about having a night on the town?"

"What town," he scoffs. "There's a pizza parlor and a gas station within walking distance. After that, we're looking at a thirty minute drive at least."

"You got a car?"

He narrows his eyes. "I don't like where this is going…"

I put my hands on his shoulders. "Come on, Austin. You hate this place as much as I do. Lets ditch it for the night. It's not like we're stuck here!" This gives me an idea. "Plus I can call my good friend from home back and he can meet up with us! He's only an hour away."

"Well," he hesitates, though I'm not sure what for. "Okay, you're right, give the guy a call."

"Awesome," I respond cheering up instantly. It's been awhile since I've actually seen Kenny. We're going on five weeks without each other's company, and while it's nothing like how I originally felt at being separated from Kyle, it's still weird not seeing him everyday.

We walk into the room and I instantly hook up my charger to my cell phone and watch it blink back to life. After the irritating default intro noises I cringe at the amount of missed calls, eight. Not that many but considering how I'm rarely called on my cell phone, I think that's a lot.

Rather than listen to all the voicemails, I scan through the missed calls menu. Three from Kenny, five from my mom. Okay, now I'm a little curious. I flip open my cell and dial for my voicemail, getting through all the automated prompts before I can hear my messages. The first two from my mom sound normal enough, she's just asking how school is and if I need anything. Usual mom things. The last two sound a little on the worried side and the fifth sounds somewhere near frantic.

The messages switch over to Ken's. The first one being a short: "hey your mom called me asking about you, so call her back idiot."

If my mom called Kenny then I know she was worried. Not to say that she doesn't like him, they just don't have any reason to talk to each other. The next voicemail is a little bit on the irritated side: "Not that I'm worried, I'm not, but you really ought to call your mother Stan. She's starting to harass me as if I'm withholding information from her. And then when you're done being yelled at by her, call me back, so I can yell at you."

Then the final one: "…dude…are you okay? Has Kyle's cult gotten you?" The message ends with him snickering and hanging up the phone. I think I would have to be missing for a month for Kenny to be truly worried.

Austin's looking at me curiously, probably at the sight of my lip curling in annoyance at Ken's messages, but I wave him off and dial my friend's number. He picks up on the first ring.

"If you need ransom money for one Stanley Marsh you're calling the wrong person," he says automatically.

"Ken, shut up," I say annoyed, yet…pleased, to hear his voice again. At least some things never change. "And don't call me Stanley."

"Oh, I'm so glad it's you, Stan!" he cries breathlessly. "I've been so worried. I mean, I spent nearly all of my time sulking in the bathroom, staring at my phone waiting for it to ring and-"

"Cut the bullshit," I interrupt, slightly aggravated at his exaggerated and obvious-to-me bitter remarks. He always gets this way when he's putting up a front. "My phone was dead for awhile and…well…I don't really feel like telling you this over the phone, how's dinner tonight sound?"

"…Are you asking me out on a date? Why, Mr. Marsh, I hardly know you!"

"You know me fine, and no, I'm bringing a buddy from school. I just want to get away, you know?"

"Yeah, that might be kind of cool. You plan on spending the night? It's nearly six right now."

"Kenny, its 4 o'clock."

"Who's keeping time anyway? Sure, come on over! I'll even clean for you."

I laugh. "You probably haven't cleaned since I've last been there."

He ignores me. "This isn't something I'll do every time, Stan. Consider yourself lucky."

I laugh again because he sounds so serious. "I appreciate the gesture. See you in about an hour, dude."

"Sounds good." And he hangs up the phone. I wait until I hear the silence, and flip my phone closed before looking at Austin.

"Ready to go?"

As we gather a few things, like wallets, and walk back down the stairs to head for the parking lot where I assume his car is somewhere, he keeps trying to not smile.

"What is it?" I ask, almost laughing, wanting him to spill what's so funny.

"It's the way you sounded on the phone," he finally speaks.

"What about it?"

"You sounded so…annoyed, yet, it was totally lighthearted. I don't think I've seen that side of you. You must be close with your friend Kenny back home too huh?"

"Ken and I?" I think it over. "I've known him as long as I've known Kyle, since kindergarten, and it wasn't until after Kyle left for school here at JV that we really became close…he had been kinda a third wheel before…anyway, I don't suppose you know how to get to South Park?"

We stop walking in the parking lot when we come across a black car. Not too new, not too old, perfect really. Austin hops in before leaning over to unlock my door. "I've never even heard of it, and I've lived in Colorado all my life," he says.

I quickly give him the general idea on how to get to the place before relaxing back and looking at the scenery…which isn't a whole lot. Austin and I engage in some light conversation, and fight a little over radio tastes.

It's been so long since I've been in a car. Just as long since I've felt so relaxed. I didn't really understand how much weight JV put on me until I remembered I could occasionally leave and go home.

"So we're heading for your hometown," Austin thinks aloud, just as we pass the old 'Welcome to South Park' sign off the edge of the highway. "Anything, or anyone else you want to see besides Kenny?"

I take in the familiar sights of downtown and the shops adorning the streets. I never thought it'd feel so great to be back home, even if it was for only a few hours. At this point, I don't know if I'll even be able to stomach staying at JV beyond this semester. And with my grades the way they are…I might not be invited back anyway. I can't sever all ties back here, because somehow, I see myself crawling back sooner than later.

"I think I should probably stop in to see the 'rents," I decide on the spot.

"You want to do that before we meet up with Kenny?" For some reason, he seems really nervous to meet my other friends.

I call him out on it. "Would you relax? Ken's not like Kyle. He's the one I've told you about before."

He shifts in his seat as I instruct him to turn right. "Yeah…and he's the one you've talked about me to too, right? The one that thinks I'm crazy?"

"Oh," I say, chuckling uncomfortably. I had forgotten about that. "Yeah, well, Kenny doesn't remember much. I'd be surprised if he connects those two together. And yeah, we're going to see him first, otherwise my mom will be devastated that we didn't tell her we'd be coming over for dinner."

"Alright," he agrees reluctantly, and I inform him where to turn next. As we drive down the road to Ken's place, I feel myself getting excited to see my friend again. Someone I know I can count on.

"It's those apartments on the right, the green ones called 'South Park Apartments'," I point out.

"Not a very clever name is it?" Austin questions as he turns his car into the entrance.

"We're a small town, and it's the only complex, so it doesn't need to differentiate itself. Ken's apartment is on the first floor, and has a dead cactus in front of it." Austin gives me a strange look, but I ignore it as I continue to maneuver him through the small little place. Pointing out a place we can park, I all but bound out of the car and jog toward Kenny's door, waving for Austin to hurry up. He eyes the dead cactus before I knock loudly on the door. When it's not opened after a bit of time has passed, I knock again.

"Where the hell is he?" I say more to myself as I try and peer in through the side window that's next to the main door. I knock some more and even ring the little bell a few dozen times. "Ken!" I call out. "Kenn-"

The door flies open and there he stands in his usual white t-shirt and jeans looking exasperated. "Can't a person use the bathroom without someone assaulting their front door and bell?" he says as his way of greeting.

I can't help it; I almost throw myself at him in a fierce tight hug. I even hear him gasp, though I'm not sure if it's out of surprise, or over the fact that I might be crushing his lungs.

"Please Stan, not in front of guests," he says and I pull away from him, keeping a hold onto his shoulders.

"You haven't changed a bit," I say and he looks as if he's about to grin cheekily, but I don't get a chance before I pull him back into a hug.

I didn't realize I missed him so much until I laid eyes on him. Though I know part of the reason I missed him was more because I've been longing for normalcy. With these past few weeks of nothing but secrets, and honor societies, and changes in personalities surrounding me, I'd almost forgotten there was a place where people never changed no matter the times. Good old South Park.

"Dude, seriously, your friend, who is not Kyle I might add, is starting to look a little bit on the uncomfortable side. So all jokes aside mate, release me if you would."

"Oh, Austin!" I jump away from Kenny to turn to look at him. He looks a little embarrassed but other than that he seems fine. "Austin this is Kenny, Ken, Austin."

I step back and watch them. Kenny eyes Austin up and down before looking at me without even greeting him. "Isn't Austin the name of the guy who got you thinking Kyle has joined some sort of secret cult?"

"Oh, heh heh," I laugh uncomfortably, rubbing the back of my neck and shooting Austin an apologetic look. He glares at me in an 'I-told-you-so' manner. "That's not important right now, Ken." I hope to defer his ideas about Austin until he gets to know the guy. I think Ken's a rational enough person; he'll know what is right in the end. I wouldn't be surprised if he takes an immediate liking to Austin. As I've said before, they have a lot more in common than being my only sane friends.

He shrugs and takes a bite out of a doughnut, which I wouldn't doubt he brought with him to the bathroom. "Sure it is. I can't have a deranged crankpot in my house, Stan. Not another one." He offers Austin a smile to assure he is only half-serious, but Austin stays cold and closed off. Rightfully so. If Kenny called me a deranged crankpot, I'd shove that doughnut right down his throat.

"Shut up and let us in."

He stares at me, I suppose judging the sincerity of my visit, but quickly gestures for us to come inside. I walk in first and Austin follows close behind. I notice that he avoids eye contact with Kenny, and that Ken is staring him down like an interrogator waiting for the suspect to confess.

Austin pulls his scarf off of his neck and places it on the back of a chair sitting in the middle of the living room floor. There is a set of hot rollers on the seat and a keyboard on top of them. I've learned not to ask questions about Ken's lifestyle and/or living conditions. Oddly enough, he always has a rational explanation for it all.

"So what's for dinner?" I ask, desperate for a change of mood.

"Unless you want the dried up Chinese food I had four days ago, I suggest we go out for pizza."

"We could order in," I suggest instead.

"You got money to pay the delivery boy?"

I laugh. Not sure why, just because I knew I'd be the one paying for the meal. "It's all on me, dude."

"Well, that's a relief," Ken replies, putting the keyboard in its rightful place…next to his eight year old computer that doesn't have a working monitor. I feel sorry for the guy, and I'm proud of him at the same time. Though he scrapes by on what little money he earns in his part-time job, he's still making it in a world that told him he'd end up doomed like his deadbeat father.

"Is pizza cool with you, Austin?" I ask, wanting him to say _something_.

He looks at me shakily. "That's what I wanted to begin with," he mutters before looking at Kenny for his response.

Kenny makes eye contact with him and smiles. "When in doubt, always pick pizza." Then he walks over to Austin, slapping his back three times in a friendly Kenny way. Austin practically chokes at the power, but forces a laugh out instead.

"So "the usual"?" Kenny continues.

"Yeah," I respond seeing the twinkle in his eye. "First one down chooses the topping?"

"Like always. I'll be winning this time around, I can't stand your girly choice in toppings."

"How is Canadian bacon and pineapple girly?!" I ask shrilly for probably the billionth time. I always ask, not to hear his "reasonable" responses, it's more out of habit, more about us just being us together.

"Well it is fruit, and fruit doesn't belong on pizza, tomatoes aside of course. Pineapple simply doesn't make sense," Austin says matter-of-factly. Both Ken and I stare at him. I frown, while I see Kenny nodding as if what he said was the answer to a question plaguing man since the beginning of time. Kenny suddenly turns toward me.

"We seem to have forgotten Austin, and as this is a democracy," he turns to Austin. "What sort of topping choice intrigues you?"

Austin shrugs, as he looks around, choosing to sit on a bright neon orange beanbag. "Supreme."

Kenny looks back at me and I clench my fist together, "democracy has spoken Stan. I'll go order, you two…don't do anything funny while I'm gone," he says and disappears into his bedroom to place the order. I whip my head back to Austin.

At meeting my eye he lets out a light laugh, "don't look as if I betrayed you."

"You called my choice of toppings girly," I pout.

"Just the pineapple," he tells me. "Canadian bacon is just foreign. I don't trust foreign food."

"You don't trust any food," I remind him.

"I don't trust anything," he agrees, grinning.

"Well, relax. We're 60 miles away from that damn school and there's nothing that can harm us here."

Austin fidgets in the beanbag. Moments later, he pulls one of those plastic rings that are around soda cans from underneath his backside. "Unless I die from germs." He flings the plastic ring thing onto the overcrowded coffee table in front of him.

I feel the need to apologize for Kenny's sanitary deficient lifestyle. "If you feel something fuzzy, don't try to pull it out," I warn him.

"That's disgusting!" he cries, shrinking into a ball. We look around and eavesdrop as Kenny orders a large supreme pizza, two orders of breadsticks, Buffalo wings, and three liters of Pepsi. I know it's not all for tonight—when I pay for Kenny, I pay for a weeks worth of food.

Finally, he emerges from the bedroom/kitchen with a wide smile. "That'll be $44.95, Stan. Thanks a million." He plops down on a sofa right next to Austin's beanbag and smacks the inside of his gums.

I stare at him, awaiting a conversation I really don't want to be a part of.

"So, Stanley, have you figured out how to stop the cult from killing Kyle yet?"

Damn him. Damn him back to hell. I knew he would bring this up.

"Not exactly," I seethe out carefully.

"Well it's best for you not to dawdle with these things, wouldn't want him to drink the magical kool-aid anytime soon."

"Ken-" I start angrily before Austin beats me to the punch.

"I'm not sure exactly what Stan told you about the HHS, but they're nothing to joke about, especially from smart ass people who know nothing about it," he almost spits out.

It's less than three seconds. Less than three and Kenny's face goes from amused to not at all amused. "And I suppose you're going to tell me all about it, right?" he challenges.

"No," Austin replies curtly, standing up from his sunken position in the bag. It takes him a good three tries until he gets out of it, which would be hilarious if it weren't for that stone-cold glare plastered on his annoyed face. "I don't waste my time convincing others. They all think I'm crazy anyway."

"Well you are, but that's more to love," Kenny says. "Sit down, you're making me nervous."

I swallow hard and clench my jaw at the scene before me. I figure it's best to say nothing and allow my two, currently closest, friends work out whatever is between them without my interference.

"Making _you_ nervous? Spend one fucking night at our school and tell me _then_ what makes you nervous. You wouldn't joke around about this anymore. You'd know the truth." Austin preaches as he stands, which really does make him seem kind of crazy. "But I'm not here to talk about that, man. Stan took me here to get _away_ from that."

Kenny's eyes go wide and he fakes a creepy monotone voice. "You can't get away. You can never escape…"

Austin rolls his eyes. "You're about as cheesy as a 1980's horror movie."

Kenny grins proudly and picks up a toothpick that was lying in a cluster on the coffee table. A used one, I suspect. He sticks it between his right front teeth and leans back on the sofa. "I try," he says, bringing his ankle up to his knee and crossing his legs.

Austin remains standing and looking unpleased. "You think this is something to laugh about."

"Look, _Austin_," Kenny starts, emphasizing his name. "We may have bonded over pizza, but that's it. You're in my place, and while I commend you on taking care of Stan for me, you keep in mind you've only known him for five weeks. I've known him for eighteen years and counting, and I don't appreciate you filling his head with bullshit, it has enough in it as it is."

"It isn't bullshit," Austin defends and I tense as I watch Kenny stand to join him. They're about equal in height with Kenny probably having about an inch over him. But even if Kenny wasn't the taller one, if it came down to a fight I have little doubt that he would lose. He's that sort of person, and having been born on the wrong side of the train tracks, it includes an ability to fight dirty.

"Sounds like it," Kenny answers back just as fiercely. "What proof do you have that this so called HHS is even doing what you think they're doing? I'll bet it's just a club of the attractive, rich, and talented, and you just didn't cut it, so now you're name calling. Well get the fuck over it and stop dragging Stan into your little world."

Austin snorts, "you're one to talk. I can tell you're the guy who got left behind when all his friends got to move and go somewhere."

Kenny takes a deep breath, and I see his lip curl. He's almost snarling. I'm beginning to feel like I shouldn't have brought Austin here…

"This was a mistake," I speak finally, standing up and pulling at Austin's arm like some little five year-old. "Maybe we should leave."

"Nonsense, Stanny boy. Sit down," Kenny orders me, and with one solid shove to my shoulder, he manages to push me back into the spot I was before. I feel almost obligated to keep tabs and narrate the fight that's about to break loose in front of me.

Austin is the first to back up. He senses the resentment in Ken's eyes, I'm sure. "Look, I'm sorry Kenny. You're right, this _is_ your house and I have no right to talk to you that way in it. Let's just agree to disagree, okay?"

"Fat chance," Kenny shoots down, already in defensive mode. "I want to know what could possibly make a prick like you think our friend Kyle is overtaken by a fucking cult."

Austin mirrors Kenny's reservations on hitting one another. "Because, a _prick_ like me has seen more and heard more and KNOWS more than you'd ever want to believe." He steps back up again. "Trust me, Ken. If I could walk through JV without knowing what I know, then I'd be a happier, more popular man."

"So you choose to be a dumbass and believe your own drabble?"

Austin throws up his hands and steps away. "I can't deal with this. Stan, let's go."

"No, STAY!" Kenny bellows, walking closer to Austin. "Indulge me."

I sigh. "Ken, stop being an asshole."

He turns to me. "If you can convince me, I promise I'll help you find a way to get Kyle back. It was easier to believe you were both going insane when I couldn't see either of you, now…I'm not so sure. So," he turns back to Austin. "Sit back down and explain it to me."

Austin hesitates before doing so wearily with me following suit. Kenny remains standing, choosing to lean against the door. I'm not sure if it's to barricade us in or not, but I wouldn't put it past him. "And Austin?" Kenny pipes up drilling holds into his head.

"What?"

"Don't presume you've seen more and heard more than I have, you'd be surprise who and what one little mountain town can bring in."

When Austin glances at me I have to nod in agreement with Kenny, but this is neither the time nor the place to explain about our town's history.

"Fine," Austin says. He smirks in that slightly defeated way. "Where should I start?"

"Like they always say, the beginning's best," Kenny answers him.

He's being rather serious, which is good. When Kenny is serious it's a whole other level. He's always taken things lightly, made survival easier, but I'm glad he's pushing aside the notion that this whole thing might be an elaborate joke aside. I give him a small smile, to let him know I appreciate what he's doing.

It isn't returned, but our eyes meet and I know he's accepted it. "For me," I say when Austin nods at me. "It almost started right away, Ken, you were there. Remember that guy we met on the stairwell?"

"Tall blonde?" Kenny asks dully.

"Yeah. I guess you could say it starts with him."

-

By the end of the visit, pizza consumed, Kenny is making plans with Austin for when he comes up to sabotage the HHS. They are exchanging demented ideas on how to expose the members and kidnap Kyle back to sanity. And I'm sitting facing them just watching it all go down.

Once Ken really opened up to the possibility of what Austin was saying was true, his imagination got carried away. We had to calm him down when he thought Kyle's head would explode if he knew we were talking about him. Kenny's always been the one to get caught up in superstitions like that, just like that dream book of his. Which, coincidentally, I've been flipping through for the past half hour as the two conspirators plotted for a demise.

I glance at my watch for the seventh time in three minutes, noting that it is, in fact, after sunset and a little after 7:30. If we're going to make it to my mom's, I better tear this twosome apart. Not that I'm not happy to have the guys getting along…I'm just beginning to feel left out because I don't really want to destroy the entire society. I could give two shits about it.

I just want Kyle back.

"Alright guys I think that's enough for one night," I say sighing. "You're both starting to give me a migraine."

"Now, now Stan, we're doing all this for your sake as well as Kyle's," Kenny responds brightly.

I feel like he's forgotten the real purpose behind coming up with an idea to infiltrate the HHS. Rolling my eyes, I stare him down, "yes but, contacting a drug lord that may or may not have connections with the FBI to sneak Kyle out and bust the HHS? Could we please think of something realistic?"

"That is realistic," he says in such a way that in all honesty, I don't completely doubt him. I'm not exactly sure how many odd connections Kenny has, or how he got them, but it's something I've decided I never want to know. "But I suppose we can stop if the thought of Kyle is tearing at your little heart strings too much."

Sometimes he's so dead on it creeps even me out, and I've always thought I was starting to understand all his ways. 

"It is," I say bluntly, before turning my head pointedly toward Austin. "You ready to go—seen enough of Kenny to last you awhile?"

Austin laughs, and rather than being insulted, Kenny only smiles. "I'm ready if you are, you said we were going to your parents place first right?"

"Yeah, if they find out I've come home without seeing them there will be hell to pay. So," I turn to Kenny

"Guess this is goodbye," he says in a very fake heartfelt manner.

I turn shrugging and gesture to Austin to head toward the door. Without looking back I give Kenny a slight wave and attempt to follow Austin out the front, but I'm stopped by a hand clamping on my shoulder. Looking back, with a slight amused look on my face I eye Kenny and feel my amusement fade a little bit.

"Let's not make the next visit another five weeks okay?" He carefully asks of me.

"I won't."

"Good," he lets go of my shoulder. "Because if it is I'll assume Kyle's cult got you. And to be honest Stan it's one thing for it to get him, its another matter for me if it got you."

His response makes me half upset, that he wouldn't be horribly affected if something happened to Kyle. But it also warms me a little, to know that he would be if something happened to me.

"Stan?" Austin calls out from further down the parking lot of the apartment complex.

"Yeah, I'm coming," I call back.

"Hey Austin," Kenny yells out toward him. "You're going to like Mrs. M. She treats all of Stan's friends like they're starving children!" "If I remember correctly, you are a starving child," I mutter brushing past him and heading for the front door.

He smirks at me. "Not for the next week I won't be," he shoots back, reminding me just how much money I paid for him to have a few complete meals. I groan at the weight lifted from my back pocket wallet, and wave at him as I step into Austin's passenger side once again.

We sit there until we both safely fasten our seatbelts, Austin fidgets with the radio, and Kenny runs out and climbs on top of the hood, pretending to hug it. Finally, I look at Austin giving him the 'let's go!' look. "You lead the way, Stan," he says. Oh yeah! He doesn't know his way around.

The trip to my parent's house is a short five minutes or less, but we have to drive past the Broflovski home in the process. As we pass Kyle's house, I get one of those odd, cliché chills running up and down my spine, and my mind immediately shoots to the way we used to be. Building snow forts in the front yard when school was over. Throwing snowballs at each other until our mittens were soaked through to the core. Peeling off our mittens and bringing our hands to the fire while sitting side by side. Not agreeing over who won the snowball war and fighting on the floor to prove who's stronger.

Those were the days. I sigh aloud and stare out the window, probably looking like some homesick puppy.

"Is that house going to make you cry?" Austin speaks up, noticing my sudden mood swing.

His voice distracts me, and I turn around quickly to meet his gaze. "That's Kyle's house."

"Ah," is all he says, nodding his head and refocusing on the road.

I'm almost grateful when the house moves beyond my sight. Wow, I'm pathetic. "Turn right here," I say, motioning to the left.

"Turn right?"

"Left."

Austin gives me a puzzled, annoyed look. "You said right."

"I said turn right here."

"Right."

"…"

He rolls his eyes and turns at the said spot, and my house suddenly comes into view. "Two blocks down on the right."

"You sure not the left?"

I sneer at him, but inwardly smile. It's nice to have someone to banter with back and forth. Kyle doesn't even know the meaning of conversation anymore. "I'm sure," I tell him and quickly direct him to my house. "The greenish blue one, and it should be okay for you to pull into the driveway," I add once it's in view. He does so and quickly turns off the engine before I step out.

I look around at the house I've spent my entire life in. With it's small front yard, and simple unappealing architectural structure. Just another two story house in Colorado, nothing unusual, but it's home and –

"Dude, are you going to stand here and look at your house all day? I'm freezing out here," Austin says cutting into my reflective moment.

"Yeah, yeah" I say slightly annoyed and walk up to the front door, not even bothering to knock. It's my house after all. Austin and I step inside and at that moment I freeze at the scene. He looks at me oddly while looking at my parents as if he should greet them, and I can hear my parents saying their hello's to me, but it's not my mom or my dad that my eyes are directed it.

"Hello Stanley!" Mrs. Broflovski's voice rings toward me as she looks up from the game she was playing with my parents. I look back and forth at them, only registering slightly that Austin is nudging my back with his elbow. 

"Hey, Mrs…Broflovski," I greet back, my eyes shifting to Austin so that he sees the gravity of this situation. I can imagine that by now he knows Kyle's name from anyone. It's a pretty distinct last name.

My mom bounds out of her chair to capture me in a hug before I can register anything else. "You should have TOLD us you were coming back! We would've fixed something!"

I hear Austin laugh, and once my mom releases me, I turn to him. "It was kinda a spur of the moment thing. Mom, this is Austin. He's the guy I've been telling you about." Austin extends his hand and formally greets my parents, doing a decent job at being friendly, but his eyes, like mine, graze over Sheila. I wonder if she knows what's been going on.

"Where's my Buhbala tonight?" she asks, scooting out from the table to join the rest of us in the crowded foyer.

"He's…busy," I cover. I don't want to have to explain what that school is doing to her son as my opening statement. "Austin drove," I say, turning my attention back to my mom before she even has a chance to ask the question of how I got here.

"What a pleasant surprise, sweetie!" mom gushes.

Sheila is frowning. "He's too busy to come see his own mother? That doesn't seem right…"

"You spending the night?" dad asks. I shake my head, completely ignoring Sheila's mumbles.

"Stan's told me so much about you two. It's a pleasure putting a face with the name," Austin says. We all meander into the living room, where Austin and I take a seat on the couch, mom sits on the oversized chair, and dad sits in his Lazyboy. Sheila stands bewildered.

"He hasn't even called in a few days…" she talks, more to herself. She walks over to me. "Say, Stanley, do you suppose he's bogged down with the demanding workload?"

I shrug, trying my best to avoid this woman's interrogations. "He's just busy, that's all."

"That's no excuse, Stanley, and you know it. You're going to have to get on him when you get back there."

"If I see him, I'll tell him," I mutter, but it does not go undetected. Neither does the tone in which I said it.

Mom frowns. She only knows half of every story. The sane half. I don't feel like delving into the whole "Kyle is possessed by a bloodthirsty cult" subject, so I've just told her we're going through a rough patch. "That bad, huh?" she responds with a sigh. Austin turns to me with questioning eyes. I don't really think he knows how to handle this situation. I know I don't.

"It'll be fine, we'll be fine," I brush off the topic of me and Kyle. I'm about to change the subject when Sheila, as usual, continues with what she'd rather talk about.

"You know this is just not like that boy, maybe I ought to go up there and remind him who's paying for his expensive education!"

"**No!**"

I'm not sure what everyone in the room is more surprised about. The fact that I quickly, and loudly, disagreed with her idea, or the fact that Austin said it in the exact same tone as me. "No," I say more calmly, rubbing my neck. "I'll let him know Mrs. Broflovski, he's just been really busy with…the honor society." I try my best not to spit out the name, and based on the look Austin's giving me, I'm sure I did a pretty decent job.

"…Hmm, yes I guess an honor society would take up a lot of his time. Though I do wish you'd get him to call me Stan."

"I will," I promise, while internally begging her not to go to JV.

Who knows how Kyle would act in front of his mother the way he is now. Sheila has a short temper, but so does this new Kyle. Needless to say, I'm sure they'd both get carried away. But at the same time, who knows…knowing Mrs. Broflovski I'm sure she wouldn't notice the change. In fact she'd probably adore Miller and every last HHS prick it contained.

From there I'm relieved to say that conversation drifts away from Kyle, but it's impossible not to have it lingering in my mind. Not with his mom and her bright read hair that Kyle inherited directly in my line of vision.

Regardless that my mom said she didn't have anything for Austin and I to eat, I'm not in the least bit surprised when sandwiches and drinks pop up, as well as a box with my address at college on it.

"Your father was supposed to send you this care package two weeks ago," my mom says as she glares at dad, who pays her no mind. "Either way you're getting it. I've packed in some instant food, some extra boxers, some school supplies, an envelope of money that, honey, please only use for emergencies. I've also put in a first aid kit, a-"

I tune out my mom as she continues to inform me of the contents of the package that takes both Austin and I to lift. When she's done, she's smiling in that wistful my-baby's-all-grown-up way that she tends to do. I figure its time we can head back now, seeing as there really isn't much else to say without being uncomfortable around Mrs. Broflovski. Unfortunately, she snaps out of her Kyle-based questioning at that exact point and chooses to start in on Austin, asking him what he does, where he lives, what his parents do, the whole 411 on the guy like he is some potential dating candidate for her child. Austin seems more than uneasy to answer the questions, especially with the increasingly later hour.

I drown out most of her questions too with thoughts of my own, but it feels like more than ten minutes go by before there's a break in the question/answer session. I seize the opportunity. "Mrs. B, it's getting pretty late. If we don't want to be driving while tired, we better get a move on." I figure if I play on an issue she feels strongly about—driving while sleepy—then I'll get a better response.

As expected, she peers at her own watch. "Oh dear me, you're right. I better not keep you any longer." She stands up, letting us know that _she_ is ready for us to leave, and that it's okay. My parents and I have been nothing but wallflowers since she opened her mouth. "It was so nice to meet such a strapping young gentleman with his head on right, Austin. I really wish you and my son interacted more. He needs friends like you."

I snort. "OKAY, let's go." I guide Austin to the door, practically saving him from Sheila's praises. She's never praised me like that. Then again, I've always gotten the feeling she didn't think I was the greatest influence on her 'precious Einstein'. Probably cause I don't share that 4.0 GPA that he and Austin do.

"Pleasure meeting all of you," Austin says, nodding his head like someone would if they were wearing a hat. He can see I'm more than eager to get out there. I think he is too, but he's polite about it all. I, more or less, don't care.

"Bye mom and dad!" I call out, and mom rushes over one more time to squeeze me to death. In mid-chokehold, I hear an unfamiliar phone ring.

Sheila's eyes light up. "Oh, that might be Kyle right now!" she squeals, and disappears into the kitchen to retrieve her purse.

Austin and I take one look at each other before sprinting out of the house. No way are we going to deal with that awkward situation. 

"Do you think that was Kyle?"

"Hmm, who knows," he says thoughtfully. "Though it would be a rather disturbing if he happened to call the exact moment we were talking about him."

"True," I nod in agreement. "Besides if that was him, I have no doubt that Sheila would mention our visit, and that just doesn't sit well with me. I mean," I pause looking out the dark window watching as we drive through downtown South Park. "I can't imagine what he would do to me, what he would say to me if he knew I came here, met with his mom, talked about him with his mom, and didn't tell him."

"And brought me with you," Austin adds, and his add in only makes me shudder.

He's right, as I am. I wouldn't want to deal with Kyle's reaction today. At the same time, I know I will, because eventually, he'll call his mom. No matter how far Kyle's fallen, not even he has the ability to tread too far away from his mother's tight leash.

**i**_**BB**_ and _**f **_**G**


	7. VII The Showdown

**AN: **IBB was very mean to me during the creation of this chapter. She was so relentless; wouldn't let me sleep when I was tired, demanded I wake up, write when I didn't want to write. : ( Its hard working with such a dictator. Oh yes, and IBB would like to put it on the record that _I _began the slash and not her. She's calling it delicious, delicious irony. :)

**The Reformation of Kyle Broflovski**

**VII. **The Showdown

"Not that I don't love having you here, Stan," Austin starts out with a hint of sarcasm. "But, wouldn't you much rather sleep in your own bed for once? You can't hide from Kyle forever."

I drop the video game controller on the floor and glare at him. "You're just angry I beat you again."

He huffs and refuses to answer, and so I laugh, picking the controller back up and annihilating his character once again. Damn, I'm good.

"I'm tired of playing this," he tells me instead, failing miserably to save face. "It's almost noon…don't you have a class or something?"

"It's Thursday," I remind him, cheerily. "I don't have one till 3."

"Oh, goodie," he groans.

I wonder if I'm wearing out my welcome in his fortress of solitude. I mean, its been two weeks now I've stayed here, and while I've felt pretty at home most of the time, I get this feeling that Austin wants his place back. It can't be easy learning to live by yourself, the loner that he is, and then getting an unexpected tag-along that just…won't…go away.

"If you really feel that strongly about it, I'll leave," I tell him, saving him the trouble of telling me to get the hell out. I put the game on pause and get up. Gathering all of my stuff (which takes less than two minutes), I make my way to the door. "Do you still want to eat with me tonight?"

He picks up the controller, pressing the pause button and killing my character. "Why not."

Ignoring the twitch in my eye at witnessing an unfair death of my player, I leave the room and head for Kyle's, or no, _our_ room. Sure as hell hasn't felt like it, and eerily enough I really haven't seen Kyle much lately, not even at lunch. The HHS has been MIA for the last few days and naturally no one is sure why. There are some ideas floating around, but I've mostly been ignoring them, because so far the whole group is nothing but trouble. While I do plan to figure out their dirty little secrets, I don't want anyone else to know that. Save Austin and Kenny of course.

Swallowing a lump that isn't really getting caught in my throat (I refuse to acknowledge its existence), I unlock and slowly open the door to my real dorm room. I sigh in relief when I see that it's as void as it has been the last few times I've snuck in here. I drop my things uncaringly on my bed and decide what I want to do. The idea of simply waiting around for Kyle to show up doesn't sound all that appealing. But then, neither does wandering around aimlessly on campus. 

Well, I guess that only leaves one option since the only other good friend I have at this school kicked me out of his place; homework at the library before class. I could use the studying if my past few exams have anything to say about it. Of course, the only class I am doing well in is my speech class. Not so much because I'm that good at speeches, but it's the only way I can give Miller a silent 'fuck you' without directly saying it. Making sure he has nothing, or little to critique me on, is the only thing keeping me alive in that class. 

Packing my bag quickly I sling it over my chest and clamber out of the room, down the stairs, and across the campus to our rather impressive library. If there is one building that shows how much money is being poured into this college, it's the library. Four floors, original paintings and artwork, original gothic architecture on the outside with a very modern inside, and an obscene amount of books and computers…if I was a book nerd, I'd have died and gone to heaven. 

I spend a diligent hour reading chapters I should have read weeks ago, but it's only for that one hour before I fall asleep. I only know this because I eventually wake up, realize the time, and sprint to class. Making it to physics by a hair I slide, almost faint, in my seat and prepare myself for fifty minutes of pinching myself to stay awake.

I mean, that's all the boring classes are in school anyway, right? Forcing yourself to stay awake. To stay awake while the teacher is talking some nonsense mumbo jumbo that you couldn't even comprehend if you had a person professor translator in your pocket. I might as well bring my pillow and a blanket to class…so I can at least be…comfortable…

My hand slides down my face as I fade out. At least there're enough rows in this room for me to not be _too_ obvious.

…Fifty minutes go by REALLY fast when you fall asleep during them.

Revived and nearly giddy, I spring out of my chair when I notice the others leaving (nobody had to wake me up this time), and stop up front to snatch the form I see everyone else carrying out. I really must learn to go to bed at night, and stay awake in classes.

My Physics course makes me feel like Austin a bit. No one has really showed an interest in even talking to me—they all pretty much stay within a safe distance away. Granted, I'm not the greatest at being conscious, but I'd think there'd be at least _one_ person who'd want to know my name. I sigh deeply as I walk out of the classroom alone once again. I turn left and head out of the double doors of the building…alone…once again.

Such an old, distasteful pattern. If Kyle were here, and he were normal, we'd meet up and sprint back to the dorms, or stop be the commons area to get a snack, or just walk as slow as we can to get to our next destination. Because having his company was better than anything else I could possibly be doing.

"Stan." I hear my name called out, and I swivel to identify the caller. Immediately, my thoughts turn to dust as Kyle appears from the corner of the building and jogs over to meet me. I stare at him dumbfounded without a word to say.

"Your stuff is in our room again," he says callously.

"I decided to move back in," I reply, equally as frigid.

He huffs. "So nice of you to inform me you'd be moving _out_." 

"I didn't think you would really care."

Kyle eyes me blankly, as if deciding what he ought to respond with. "How was living with Austin?"

Adjusting my bag over my chest I start to walk back to the dorms, deciding not to focus on the idea that I can't hide out at Austin's today. I can't avoid Kyle anymore. He keeps step with me, and I admit that I'm a little surprised he is. I figured he'd be too worried about being seen with me or something.

"Great," I answer back harshly. "We get along so well."

"You must, to bring him home to meet the parents."

I stop in my tracks and look at Kyle. He's stopped as well and stares me down with the unblinking look he occasionally gives me.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I say carefully. I haven't told Kyle about going to South Park and taking Austin with me for obvious reasons. One, it's none of his damn business, and two, I know he'd only go off on Austin and me. I don't want to deal with his reaction.

"My mother seems too. She called me a few days ago and told me all about her meeting Austin, and apparently she finds him to be a "strapping young man"."

Goddamn Kyle's mom.

It's okay, I can take this. He's only my best friend since forever, and this is only some stupid phase he's going through. "It may come as a surprise to you, but Austin _is_ a good guy," I snap back.

Kyle stops and presses his index finger into my chest, causing me to stop and look into his eyes. They seem upset, but for other reasons than the one he is obvious about. "You watch your tone of voice with me, Stan. I know all about you and Austin. You think he's just a saint, don't you?"

I merely shrug, unmoved by his sudden hostility. "I think he's more trustworthy than you right now."

Kyle takes a deep breath, searching my eyes for the hidden meaning behind that, but there isn't any. Point blank, I trust Austin and not Kyle. Sad but true. I half expect him to make some pathetic excuse for leaving, or just walk away without saying anything more…but he stares right back at me, unfolding. This position seems familiar. We were like this a few weeks ago when he shoved me. If he resorts to physical violence out here in the open, I'll have no choice but to defend myself.

"You don't know yourself anymore," he mutters, stepping away from me but not forward.

"I don't know _myself_ anymore?!" I ask in skepticism. "What the hell are you talking about Kyle." My voice comes out so monotone.

He sneers at me. "You don't know where your loyalties lie anymore. Its bad enough you eat with him, but bringing him home to meet MY parents? You have lost your mind."

I can't believe this! Kyle is accusing me of losing _my_ mind? Is he for real? Is this his new tactic? What is he trying to do? Whatever it is, I'm in no mood. At this, I take my leave. But, much to my disappointment, Kyle begins to follow me again. He walks by my side, and so I walk even faster. Every speed adjustment I make he makes, even if it's not so noticeable. It's noticeable to me. He walks with me as though we're friends again all the way back to the dorm room. I'm not sure if he has more questions for me, but I realize this is probably the most he's spoken to me in three weeks.

Not only that, its probably the first time in over a month that we've been left alone in the same room together. The thought makes me very uncomfortable. When I watch him shut the door behind him I feel like I've suddenly been trapped. Which is ridiculous, it's just Kyle. It's just Kyle.

But if it's just Kyle why do I want to be anywhere but here? Why are my palms starting to sweat, and why do I want to rush past him and flee to Austin's?

In the back of my mind I know the answer. I haven't been around him for a long time; the appearance of the HHS has been sparse. With the way things happen with them, Kyle, the guy in front of me could be completely different from the guy a month ago. I have no idea what to expect from him, and I don't like that.

"Kenny likes Austin too," I spit out, thinking only a minute later how stupid of me it was to say that.

Watching Kyle's face change is probably what it would be like to watch Dr. Jekyll transform into Mr. Hyde. I know for him that it's one thing to bring Austin home to meet my parents and coincidentally run into his mother. It's another thing to introduce him to Kenny.

"Kenny's met him?" He questions, his voice barely above a murmur. I nod in response and watch his eyes suddenly blaze. "Why?" He suddenly demands. "Why are you purposely doing everything in your power to piss me off?!"

"How can you-"

"Is it because I met new friends, is it because you're jealous that I was invited into the HHS? What, what is it about Austin that you like more than me Stan?! Why is he such a goddamn fucking perfect little saint in your eyes?!"

"He's not a saint, but he's certainly showing his angelic qualities more than you," I defend, seeing the red in Kyle's anger burn a deep crimson.

I can actually see the blood vessels in his head about to explode. He's holding back so much anger—which is good. They taught him to do that in the anger management courses his mom forced him into back in high school. But what's behind that build up is what's scaring me. Eventually he'll snap.

But it is not now. Because now, his eyes are narrowing and he's narrowing the gap between us. "You don't know two shits about me Stan. All you do is hang out with your new _boyfriend_!"

I growl inwardly. Where is this coming from?! "Kyle, I didn't hang out with him until you started DITCHING me every three minutes for that damn c-"

Kyle closes his eyes and purses his lips. "If you even say cult again Stan, so help me God I'll-"

"You'll what?" I challenge. "Shove me?" I laugh awkwardly. "Its already been done."

"You have NO idea what I risked to get you here!" he screams at me, which completely throws me back. Instead, I fake a yawn and meander over to my side of the room, taking a seat on the unmade bed next to my duffle bag of belongings.

"Please, tell me Kyle. Because I can see how much you're risking to _keep_ me here." I make it a point to lock eyes with him, even as he's barreling over to my side to join me.

"Fuck you, Stan Marsh. You don't know the things I'm doing," he replies, calmly.

"You're right. I don't. And I. Don't. Care," I annunciate clearly.

"…You used to care. You cared about everything I did until you started hanging out with that-"

"Rip Austin again Kyle and I'll give you another reason to be pissed off at me," I interrupt him.

He snorts, "I'll do what I damn well please, and if that includes ripping on that sorry asshole, that lying, rumor spreading, sack of sh-"

I've never hit Kyle before. Not hard anyway, but my hand got ahead of me. And at least I shut him up, I had warned him. But at the same time…I _hit_ Kyle. I stare at my hand in slight surprise at its moving of its own accord. Kyle's head is still turned to the side, from the force of impact with my hand.

Nevertheless, even if it is Kyle, and even if I did just hit him in the face, I don't feel particularly sorry about it. "I said not to talk about Austin like that," I tell him quietly.

I watch as he slowly turns his head back to face me. I've thought of a number of reactions I could gather from him and this…this face of pure anger was one of them. "If all you want to do is a pick a fight with me, then get the hell out. Go crawling to your club, you new and well-trained friends, go back to _your_ beloved boyfriend. I'm sure Miller's waiting for you anyway."

Kyle closes his eyes to collect himself. He opens them, refocusing on me. "Don't bring Mill into this."

"I'll bring whoever I damn well please," I mock Kyle's statement given only moments before. "You don't see the influence that asshole has on you, Ky!" Wow, I called him Ky for the first time in a LONG time. Weird.

"Miller is my friend, unlike AUSTIN, who's just a bloodsucking gutter rat. You should've listened to me when you had the chance to make things right!" He backs off and begins to walk away. Away to his side of the room.

At this, I pull myself up off my bed, standing just as tall and just as proudly as he is. "You know damn well you never gave me a chance to make things right." I throw my hands up in the air in exasperation. "There was nothing to make RIGHT until THAT fucker came into the picture!"

Kyle brings his hand up to rest on the side of the desk, taking another deep breath and looking away from me. "I'm going to pretend I didn't just hear you badmouth Miller YET AGAIN."

This argument is tired and annoying. "That's right. I forgot that King Kyle can talk about whoever the hell he wants, but if his former best friend, only to be replaced with some cold and unreadable douche bag, talks bad about ANYONE from King Kyle's court, he gets all pissy!" Somewhere in that rant of mine, Kyle has turned back around and is staring at me ferociously. I'm not entirely sure if its because he knows what I'm talking about…because honestly I lost myself quite a while ago.

"Is that it? I'm your fucking FORMER best friend? IS THAT IT, STAN?" He begins to walk towards me again. "I've been REPLACED by that WEASEL? IS THAT IT?!?!"

I grind my teeth. We have snuck in _every _name in the book and I feel absolutely NO better than I did before. A lot of good that's doing. "You brought it on yourself with that cult, Kyle. I don't even recognize you anymore."

"I TOLDYOU NOT TO CALL IT A CULT!" He hollers at me and I find myself backing up as he advances toward me. "The HHS has been nothing but a blessing for me! But of course you don't know that, because you don't want to know! Never mind that I didn't know a soul when I came here, or that I missed you so much that more than once I thought about crawling back home, no, because all it is to you is some cult! I slave away to assure you a place in this school; so that you never have to feel what I felt when I first came here, and this is how you repay me? Defying everything I've said, never once giving me the chance to show you what a great guy Miller was. I mean," he throws up his hands and laughs in a disgusting fake manner. "I introduce you to Jason and I watched you two hit it off, but the second, the damn _second_ you learn he's a part of the HHS you're no longer interested! How do you think that makes me feel?! You think I _want_ to choose the HHS over you?!"

He's going on and on, getting himself worked up, but he lost me at the beginning. When he admitted to how much he missed me, and how much he wanted to go back home because of it. I tuned out most of the rest.

He never told me that. Never. Not once in the entire time that I've been here. If he had just said that from the start…

"Kyle," I say gently, and reach out my hand toward him.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" He yells.

I bite my lip. Thank God it's the middle of the day and that most of the dorms are empty this time of day. I'm sure Kyle can be heard in every room in every floor.

"DON'T EVER TOUCH ME AGAIN! You're a bastard, and a traitor, and I'm sick of looking at you, and I'm sick of you defending your "friend" and dissing mine! I've had it up to here with you! It was one thing to befriend Austin, and note, I'll never fucking approve of it, but to have him meet Kenny?! KENNY IS MUTUAL TERRITORY! If you had Austin meet him, I'll have Miller meet him."

"What?!" I heard that part for sure. "The hell you will!"

"You can make sure of it, Stan," he says, returning to his eerily creepy calm voice. And when I'm done, I'm going to introduce Miller to your parents so they can see what a wonderful, bright and talented young man he is."

"Now you're just being childish."

"Oh, I'M the one being childish, Stan? I can't BELIEVE you would bring that lunatic anywhere NEAR my family!"

How come I suddenly feel guilty? I have no REASON to feel guilty. So why is that look he's giving me creating this sensation inside of me? He looks almost…normal. "Kyle, I didn't purposefully seek out your mom for her to meet Austin. She was at my parent's house. I didn't want her there either; I know how much you hate him. And despite what you say, there is good in him JUST LIKE EVERYONE ELSE," I say, hoping to appease him with the Miller situation, even though I'm certain there is no good in that arrogant asswipe. Not to mention that dream I had of them…right here in this very room, which haunts me like the plague.

"You'd rather be with him even though he is a meaningless speck in this life," he mutters, the last bit to himself.

I decide I'm going to ignore the constant Austin bashings for now. "Kyle if you _want_ me as a best friend, you have to _show_ me you want me here."

He nods. Wow! We're getting somewhere! Civilly! That's AMAZING! I try to not curse my luck and press on. "Things can't go on like this."

He brings his face so close to mine I can feel his breath on my nose. "You want it to change?" His tone is almost hopeful.

"Of course I do. I miss you too," I find myself confessing. "All we've done since I've gotten here is fight, dude!"

"You can start by getting rid of Austin," he growls. "Then, we can be-"

"FUCK YOU, Kyle." I don't want to hear anymore. The way he just said 'rid' chills me to the bone. And now, now it's about to get messy again. Unless that burning fire I see in his eyes is just to keep him warm.

He snorts and glares at me, "either way he'll be dealt with, so it'd be better for you to erase your ties with him before you get too involved."

I take in a deep ragged breath, as I feel my body start to tremble slightly. "Dealt with?" I whisper, more to myself than him. "What the fuck does that mean…?"

"It means what you think it means," he hisses. "Everyone's had enough of him and his bad mouthing. You think he's such a great guy, but what do you really even know about him? You only listen to his side; anything I say is automatically brushed aside. You think I would want to hurt anyone you really cared about unless I didn't think it was for your sake? Stan…" His voice softens, but it only makes me cringe. "You should know me better than that."

I swallow a lump in my throat, "I thought I did. But forget it Kyle, I believe Austin. When we hang out I don't get…he doesn't scare me like you do. He's a good guy, and I feel like a broken record saying it, but you still don't seem to hear it."

I watch him blink silently a few times, studying me. "If Austin came in that door," he turns to our door. "If he came in right now and he asked you to pick between the two of us, who would you pick Stan, hm?"

It's hard to believe that before me is the guy that I've never wanted to spend a moment away from in my life. The guy I came here to be with. He's the reason I slaved over my grades in high school, the reason why I got two jobs in summer, the only reason why I would ever go to such a school…and yet I don't recognize him at all. The anger, the cruelty, that spark of something I don't recognize. I could never choose the guy in front of me over Austin, because this guy isn't Kyle.

"Between the current you and Austin? Because if that's the question than Austin wins by a landslide; since my best friend Kyle is nowhere to be found."

"I AM your best friend Kyle," he tells me, as if that's all he had to do and PRESTO! He's my best friend again.

"My best friend wouldn't hurt ANYONE. Period. Except for Eric Cartman. And Kenny sometimes. And your little brother." Shit, that didn't make my defense strong at all.

He laughs, almost like a maniacal cackle. "Eric Cartman. Now _there_ is someone I hated. Almost as much as that brat who you run around with."

I sigh. "Kyle, I'm tired. If you can't even begin to admit you're being the biggest dickhole of a hypocrite, then we're done. I'm going to lay down now. Don't bother me." I resume my place on the bed, only this time, I lean back and force my eyes closed to avoid any and all conversation/argument with that guy standing in my room who claims to be my friend.

"I hate it when you do that," he mumbles loud enough so I can hear, and I think that's intentional.

I fail to see the point in responding.

"Stan Marsh you are an ungrateful sack of SHIT!" he fumes, his eyes glued to my resting body and his volume increasing with every anger-laced word.

I ignore that too.

"I ask you to do ONE thing and you can't do that for me! You have to fucking RUB IT IN MY FACE! YOU DON'T DESERVE MY FRIENDSHIP!"

At this, I pop back up, ready to spit venom. "FINE!" I yell instead. "THEN LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE!"

"I FUCKING LIVE HERE TOO AND I CHOOSE TO STAY HERE!" He yells back.

I let out a disgusted scoff and stand back up, "fine." I say more calmly. Let Kyle be the irrational immature one. "Then _I'll_ go."

"Where? Back to Austin's?" He spits out his name like it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. "Because I heard he kicked you out." Honestly I have no idea how he knows that, especially so quickly. But then again, I'm sure the HHS spreads gossip faster than any group of girls.

"Yeah, he did," I shrug uncaringly. "But I understand, and I don't fault him for it. So no, I won't go to Austin's, I'll to someone else's place."

"Like who," he almost sneers at me. "I'm pretty sure your _friend_ Austin is the only other friend you have around here."

My eyes suddenly narrow, and at the same time I feel like someone's squeezed my heart. "Yeah," I chuckle out lightly, in a very fake manner. "It's funny, because wasn't I always the popular one? Hm, and now…its funny how no one even wants to know my name. It's like they're scared of me. As if they know that getting to know me is signing their own death warrant." I suddenly glare at Kyle. "Why do I have a fucking feeling that it has something to do with you?"

He doesn't say anything; merely stares at me, almost daring me to accuse him further.

"Do you want me to feel isolated?" I ask him. "You can congratulate yourself, I almost do, but luckily for me, Austin's a once in a life time friend."

I can admit that, now, I'm trying to goad him, to piss him off and hurt him as much as he's hurting me. To think that him and his "group of friends" are purposely making my life here shit…and that Kyle is a willing part of that group? That hurts.

I turn my back on him and his eyes that are starting to anger. It was never so easy for me to piss him off, and now all I have to do is mention Austin's name and he's on fire. "You know maybe I should take the hint," I say more to the window and its view more than Kyle. "Maybe I should go back home, and take Austin with me. I don't need this, and neither does he…I think he'd fit in at South Par-"

The sudden force of Kyle's shove nearly knocks the wind out of me. Completely surprised and more than a little aggravated, I turn back around and glare at him. He pushed me so hard that I fell back onto my bed, but my anger doesn't last long. Instead it's replaced by a growing concern and nervousness.

He clearly wasn't pissed before, because now, _now_ he looks mad.

Kyle's breathing has picked up and he's taking deep fast inhales. His eyes are wide and I can practically see a vein in his neck sticking out. I'm suddenly more scared of him than I ever have been. I know my panicked expression is telling him just that.

Without warning, he charges over in a fit of rage, seemingly leaving a path of destruction in his wake. I have just enough time to grip my bedspread tightly before he pounces on me like I'm some unwanted parasite the world needs to abolish. With one swift attack, he grabs both of my wrists and yanks them beside my face. I almost want to kick and scream, but doing so might result in a more brutal outcome.

He pulls me up onto the bed with brute strength I didn't know he had in him, so that I am lying in the position I would be if I were going to go to sleep. Only I know my eyes won't be closing anytime soon. I'm too freaked to even blink or breathe.

Climbing on top of me, he lifts one leg so that it is on the opposite side of my body as the other, and he lowers his face so that I can see the pure hatred glowing from his eyes. I feel his chest pounding the same pace as mine.

And while I'm waiting for him to finish me off, to let me have it once and for all, all I can see is that terror and fury in eyes slowly fade away. The roughness of his paws holding down my wrists is starting to chafe, and I know I'm going to have a friction burn there. But I can't stop staring into those deep green eyes of his. I'm frozen on the spot, awaiting his wrath.

"You…" he growls with a subtle undertone. His eyes, which were once narrowed into slivers, have opened up and he's staring down at me. I realize my jaw has been open this whole time and immediately snap it shut, proceeding with a deep swallow.

I find the courage to blink.

"Don't _ever_ say that again," he commands. He readjusts his grasp on my wrists and his hands slip so that they are touching mine. "You don't mean it."

"Mean what?" I squeak, honestly wondering which part I don't mean.

"You don't mean it," he repeats. "You can't."

I swallow again, unable to peel my eyes away from his intense gaze. He's so close me to me I can feel every little twitch he makes with his muscles. He squeezes my legs with his own.

A whole minute goes by without him saying another word. "What do you want from me, Kyle?" I ask finally.

"You have to stay here," he whispers, his defenses suddenly down. He suddenly lowers his head and presses his cheek against my pounding heart. I'm unsure if breathing is an okay thing to do right now. I'm partially freaked out, and partially confused. Is he done with his tirade? And, I attempt to move my hands. No dice. He might look relaxed and calm resting on my chest but he still has an iron grip on me.

"You can't leave," he murmurs. "I won't allow it." As if to emphasize his point he intertwines our fingers together and tightens his already tight grip. I feel him shift above me and I swallow the lump starting to gather in my throat.

"Y-you won't allow it?" I manage to find my voice, but it doesn't come out in the sarcastic way I was hoping for. It sounds weak, tired, and like something else I don't recognize. But I'm starting to feel a little hot and awkward. "Get off me Kyle," I mutter to him.

"No," he takes a deep breath and I freeze as he does so. He's shifting his head against my chest, as if he's trying to get closer to my heart. "If I do that you really will leave, so I'm not going to move."

I attempt to move my hands again, but I'm still unable too. Goddamn where did he get all this strength from? Kyle was never the strong one! He was never a weak guy, but when it came to strength, that's where I ruled over him, and here he is pinning me to the bed, almost, no not even almost, he _is_ straddling me. It's making me very, very uncomfortable and I start to squirm beneath him, only to immediately halt when I feel something hard nudge my lower thigh.

"Kyle," I rasp out. "Kyle let me go."

"Your heartbeat's incredible," he whispers. "It's getting faster with every second."

"Kyle," I whine out.

"It's comforting to hear," he goes on quietly as if he doesn't hear me and my distress. "I've never listened to it before…Stan?"

"W-what?" I question wearily.

He hesitates for a second, "please don't leave me alone here. We have to be here at JV together, like we always have been. We're not meant to be apart…"

I resign slightly and ignore the rush of nervousness threatening to make me throw him off with everything I have. Instead, I lean my head back and look up at the ceiling. What a pair we make…and he is right about that, we've always been a pair, and I can't imagine it being different.

But it is different.

"You have Miller…" I say, and don't even try to hide the jealousy that courses through my veins at the mere mention of the blonde.

"He's my friend," he responds dully. "And you are so much more, you always have been, so I won't let you leave me. Ever."

What is he saying? Could he…is he trying…what is going on here? The majority of me is still plenty terrified of the new and unimproved Kyle, but there is a tiny part of me dancing circles around what he just said. And how he just cast Miller aside like that. For the first time, I feel like he's put me before that asshole.

Still, we're far from being anywhere where I want to be. His tone still chills me to the bone and I'm not sure how to take the word "ever". This cult has him freaked beyond any normal person's comprehension. As though we're all going to be going somewhere very soon and he needs to take me with him…

OH GOD! What if they're going to commit a mass suicide and he wants me to join? This sudden change of heart from him—this whole going soft thing—would certainly make sense if that were the case. I'd like to believe he hasn't gone _that_ far off his rocker. Yet. And maybe there is still hope for him. I mean, Christ, he has yet to even move an inch away from me. This is the closest, physically, I think we've ever been. My mind can't help but want to explore that possibility.

"Please move," I say instead with a much calmer voice. This is neither the time nor the place to be thinking about that again. "I promise I won't just get up and leave."

At this, he lifts his face again and drops his elbows to my side, like he's situating himself to get comfortable or something. "I want to believe you-" he starts.

"Then DO!" I demand, finding that I can now power my way out of this position. Sure enough, he sits back up, resting on his knees. My lower body is still incapacitated.

"What's happening to us?" he asks me, tilting his head slightly out of concern.

I stare at him for a good moment, trying my damnedest to decode what is going through his mind. I really can't take this anymore. These mood swings, these colossal chemical imbalances are too much. I love him, and God knows I want to be here for him in more ways than one, but I can't do this anymore. He can't keep me in the dark about this cult anymore. If he wants me here, he's going to have to deliver the truth. Otherwise, I'm gone.

"You tell me," I answer back softly, sitting up so that we are once again face-to-face. And if he won't tell me, I'll see to it that I find out for myself, with or without his permission.

His eyes cloud and I watch his face darken as he looks away. I sigh, and hang my head. Looks like it's going to be without.

**i**_**BB**_ and _**f **_**G**


	8. VIII The Intrusion

**AN: Hey all! We're starting things off with an AN note you ought to read. We're…dropping Reformations after this chapter. I kid. But! This **is** an important chapter! It will pretty much answer ALL your questions about the HHS, and because of that it's a mammoth of a chapter. So much that Indiana Beach Bum and I decided it was best to split it up into two sections. It's also our favorite chapter, both of ours, we've been looking forward to writing it for quite some time! Now before you read, we gotta stress to you all that everything is in Stan's POV. That will never change, sorry, but its crucial to remember that when you're reading. Other than that, we love the feedback and hope for more! **

**Which to remind you all that there is in fact a ****WE****, remember this is dual effort. Enjoy Part 1!**

**The Reformation of Kyle Broflovski **

**VIII. **The Intrusion

Part I.

Since the episode, as I am dubbing the huge blowout argument Kyle and I had last Thursday, we've been…strained. But that's prettying up the word. We haven't been getting along, but we haven't _not_ been getting along. And we're not really ignoring one another. It's as if we've come to this silent agreement to not fight, but to not talk unless we need to.

Kyle's still been as bi-polar as ever, but it has only increased my resolve to find the answers I want. For awhile I felt a tiny shred of guilt at what I plan to do tonight, but when I see his blank faces, and I remember every word and…physical move we exchanged a few days ago, I remember why I'm doing this.

I remember why I'm planning on following him to find out exactly what it is he does on Sunday nights with the HHS.

It's all for him.

That makes it easier to push away the guilt. It makes it so much easier to think of my spying as an operation to rescue Kyle. I can't imagine what he would do or say to me if he ever knew I planned on following him. But it wont matter because he wont find out, I'll be careful, and I'll make sure he's unaware.

As he follows through with his usual routine for bedtime, I can't help but notice as he stuffs a duffle bag full of both papers and binders, along with some article of black clothing. I've never seen him do that before. Then again, I've never watched him this intently before either. I try to not make it obvious, as I peek my eyes above my current book of interest that I couldn't tell you about even if you quizzed me on it. I think he senses this too, because that bag disappears beside his bed the minute we engage in fervent eye contact.

This time, he doesn't look away. And neither do I. There's a look in his eyes I can't decipher, but all I can think about is how grateful I am he can't read minds. Though I wouldn't be surprised if that cult performs some voodoo curse that allows him to see what I'm thinking. Either way, we've been staring at each other for quite some time. I issue a brief smile, to which he turns down with pursed lips.

I wish _I_ was the mind reader.

Kyle brushes his hair aside and I watch as he slides into his desk chair to crack open a textbook. I continue to watch him for a while as he reads, before returning to my own fake attempt at doing the same thing. We work in absolute silence, and just when I feel like I can take it no more and at least flick on the radio, he shuts his book and turns off his personal desk light.

"I'm going to sleep," he mutters. He changes into his nightclothes, before disappearing for the bathroom. While he's gone, I'm half tempted to find that duffel and rip it open, but I wouldn't dare. Not because I feel morally obligated not to snoop, but because I don't want to chance him walking in on me checking out his gear. Its best not to fight when tonight is such a crucial night. And I know it's going to be important. While I wait for him to return, I feel myself getting antsy.

Maybe I should have asked Austin to go with me, or talked to him about it. I haven't brought up what I plan to do about the HHS. Not because I don't trust him, but because I feel like its something I have to do myself. I feel selfish almost saying, but I don't want help. I want to be the sole person to save my best friend.

I reach up and turn off my own lamp before scrambling into bed. I've already done the bathroom thing and I have to make sure that Kyle doesn't see me heading to bed in my day clothes. I can only imagine the questions and looks that would bring me. But as I resolved the last time I decided to follow him, I need to be fully dressed. I can't risk, no, I don't want to risk losing him again. I'm going to follow him, and I need to be sure nothing gets in the way of that. That includes changing clothes.

Slipping under my covers and making sure they're up to my neck, I turn my back to the door and wait for the sounds of Kyle coming back into the room. When I hear him do so, I listen for the sounds of him putting his things away and pulling back his sheets. He flicks out the overhead light and I listen as he climbs into bed.

I shut my eyes tight before letting out a soft breath. I have to stay awake, and the last time I looked at the clock, just as I headed into bed, it was just a little past ten. I've got to force myself to stay awake for a little under two hours. Kyle will leave at about ten minutes before midnight. That's when he always leaves. It shouldn't be too hard to stay up, given how fucking uncomfortable it is in my jeans, but at the same time this mattress is oddly comfortable. The kind you tend to instantly fall asleep in. I'm not looking forward to the battle against my own body.

As my thoughts begin to wander, I realize that Kyle, too, has to wake up at his body's own accord _every_ Sunday night. I never hear an alarm, and I doubt he has anything to wake him. It's kind of creepy to think that he's got some internal clock that gets him up in order to be on time for the meeting. But everything that has happened in the past week has been beyond creepy, so I wouldn't doubt it.

I adjust myself under the sheets. Even though I tucked myself in these things so tight I'm losing sensation in my big toe, I'm too paranoid to move a muscle or to reveal what I'm wearing. Granted, it's dark outside, but, as I've said before, I can't take my chances. Nothing can go wrong this time.

I realize all too soon that it's going to be impossible to stay awake when my eyes are shut. I pry them open, staring into complete blackness. Naturally, they have not adjusted yet. As more time grows on, I make out Kyle's figure inside his own bed, unmoving. Could he really be asleep? I frown at the cheerful memories of checking to see if each other was awake when we'd spend the night together. I was always the first one out, but he was the heavier sleeper. I'd spend several minutes at a time coming up with a creative way of waking him up. And I don't really know _why_ I wanted to wake him up. Just that it meant we'd get to spend more time together if we were awake during it.

My thoughts begin to drift, and I strain to focus on the moving shadows from the trees illuminated by the moonlight. They dance in the steady wind that surrounds JV like a glove.

What could've gone wrong? Why did Kyle feel that he had no other choice but to surrender to such a life-changing exclusive club? He's never been one to care about acceptance like I have…it just doesn't make any sense. What drove him to become part of this demon society?

I yawn silently and nurse these disturbing thoughts until I can no longer think, feel, or see. And, while this is very strange, I know when the sleep creeps up on me. Just like I know when it releases me from its hold as well. I almost jump at the first sound of Kyle's departure. Did two hours really go by that quickly? It's like I hadn't drifted at all.

This is it. I await the silence once again so that I can make my move.

I hold back another yawn; I don't want him knowing that he alerted me from falling into a deep sleep. But even if I backed out and chose to stay here there's no way I could fall back asleep. Now that it's the moment of truth, nothing could make me go back to sleep, not with this sudden adrenaline rush.

At the sound of the door closing shut, I toss off my blankets, not bothering to wait another second in silence. Kyle never comes back once he's left for a meeting. He never forgets anything and I don't expect now to be any different. Rather, I rub my eyes and head out the door myself, when I hear the echo of the side door close.

Rushing out of the dorm room, I make my way for the same door. I'm just about to open it slowly when a tired voice freezes me.

"Where you going?"

I turn slowly around and see some guy standing there looking disoriented. His name's Shawn or Charlie. I don't actually know and this is most definitely not the time to care.

"Library," I say and slip through the door, not bothering to wait for his answer. Chances are he doesn't really care where I'm going and chances are he won't even remember me if his sleep deprived state is anything to go by. If anything, that asshole made me fall further behind than I would have wanted.

Now that I'm in the side stairwell I stop and listen for signs of footsteps. I almost automatically hear the sound of the heavy bottom floor door shut tight. Practically sprinting down the stairs at break neck speed, I swear to myself as I miss a couple of the last few steps.

The last thing I need is to be hauled off to the hospital as I try to explain why I was running down the stairs like a bomb was about to go off. Never mind the questions I'd get, Kyle would be informed and then he'd know what I was doing. Taking a few seconds to calm down my heartbeat, I slowly push open the heavy door.

From this door, there's the building right beside Windermere, one across, and a parking lot. Luckily for me I see Kyle in the distance, at least I think it's him, walking through the parking lot. He's weaving through cars and I don't hesitate a moment more to do the same.

He's walking like he's in a bit of a rush, and glancing down at my watch, which is slightly illuminated by the street lamps, I can see why. He left a little later than usual. Guess his internal clock is slightly off.

As I continue to keep far enough away where I'd be able to duck behind a car, I notice another figure coming from Kyle's left. I pause where I am, and crouch behind someone's black SUV, peeking around the front right tire. The figure, one I can't make out at all, crosses paths with Kyle at the edge of the parking lot. It's when I notice that the figure also has a duffel strapped over his chest, and it's when I realize it must be another HHS member.

He and Kyle chat for a few seconds before they take up walking with each other. Hoping to God that no one behind me plans to meet up with them, I continue to follow as they lead me through the campus.

I would never call JV home, and I wouldn't really call the place foreboding, but at night…I can't deny that it has an eerie atmosphere. One that reeks of secrets and betrayal. Almost makes me shiver, but I hold in my feelings and instead take note of where I'm being lead. We've past all the main buildings, the quad, and are entering the part of campus I've never been to. It's mostly the music halls, and the art halls. Places I've never needed to know about. But I do recognize one building. It's the large banquet hall that resembles the Parthenon of Ancient Greece. It's hard NOT to miss this building, and architecture aside, there's people coming from every which direction heading toward it. And every single one of them looks to be in a hurry. Every one of them with a duffel.

Deciding not to continue following Kyle, I watch him and his companion join a bunch of the others in entering the large solid building. For now I decide it's best to wait until they've all entered. The point is I now know where the HHS is meeting, no reason to rush in uninvited.

The closer I get, the more noticeable I know I've become, and so I find myself a safe hiding place between two cars closer to the building. It is there that I remain in a squatted position until every last HHS member has ascended up the stairs and into the building, and until my left leg has gone from tingly to numb. Then I wait for several minutes longer. My eyes dart back and forth past the entrance, making sure no one straggler is left behind. It is now 10 past 12, and I assume that if the HHS is as strict on punctuation as it is with its membership, then no one will be showing up late.

I swallow deeply and arise from my cramped spot, shaking my limbs out and walking in the shadows that the dim streetlights have to offer. I stuff my hands in the pocket of my black zip up sweatshirt and drop my face so that if anyone WOULD see me, they wouldn't be able to see who I was. As I near the entrance of the fabulously constructed building, my stomach begins to lurch, and this putrid acidic liquid burns my esophagus. I've never done anything this risky before. I'm literally scared for my life.

I don't figure the HHS would be careless enough to forget to lock the large portal behind them, but I want to check just in case. With my luck, Miller and his buddies will be guarding the door with a bloodthirsty fervor I don't want to think of. However, one quick glance at the entrance, and I see absolutely no one in sight. This could be potentially good. Or…it could be devastatingly bad. I waste no time in climbing the stairs and following the same path I saw others make not but a few minutes before. With all of my strength, I grasp the thick door handles and pull the solid oak door open.

The sound of silence, and the stench of malevolence, pummels out at me. I peer in to a deserted corridor—it's as though there was no one around for miles. Stepping inside, I let the door shut behind me. BIG mistake.

It echoes throughout the foyer, which is at least three stories tall and contains no acoustics whatsoever. The reverberations rattle the empty hallways, and I freeze in horror. To my right, I spy a giant alcove with a sturdy stone pillar to shield me. Upon hearing the anticipated footsteps, I duck in behind the pillar and hold my breath.

I'm too afraid to look out to see who the guy is, or to see where, or if, he's looking. I hear him open the door once again, but, much to my relief, the footsteps do not go near the alcove. They turn back around and head in the direction they came from.

…That is until I hear a second set rapidly approaching.

I sandwich myself between the pillar and the wall even further, feeling like I'm crushing my lungs. Taking a silent breath, I close my eyes and mouth a prayer.

"What was _it_," a voice sternly whispers into the air. I open my eyes and strain my ears.

"It must've been the wind again. There's nobody out there," the second voice reasons.

"Need I remind you the reason we are on duty this semester is because _last_ semester you said you knew how to _lock_ the door?"

"I do know how-"

"Stop bullshitting me. Brother M has been more than generous with our punishment for telling a lie. Just to make absolutely certain no one is there, lets stand outside until the ceremony is underway. Then we can join in."

"But I-"

"Not another word. Get your lazy ass outside."

I almost feel like crying. As the two members step outside, I suck in my breath and peel out of my hiding spot. I've passed the first obstacle; let's see how many more they throw at me.

I'm not simply worried about all the potential people I might run into. This place may LOOK like the Parthenon, but it sure as hell isn't laid out like it. The real ancient building was more or less one long hallway, this place has turns and doors, lots and lots of doors. Pillars left and right that lead to more doors, and more hallways. I can guess a general direction, based on where those guards came scampering from, but after that…shit. I don't know where to start.

Either way, standing around and looking at everything sure won't help matters. I've never been inside this building before but I have heard people talk about it.

Okay, think Stan.

I remember some guys in my physics class mentioning they were going to a guest lecturer in this building. And that they had been saying how easy it was to get lost in here. I shake my head and frown—that was _not_ something I needed to remember. Anyway, one guy said that the main story was nothing but small rooms, and that the only place big enough to hold a famous lecturer was in the…

My eyes scan through the corridor in front of me.

They mentioned that, unlike the real ancient building, this one held a giant lecture hall that was in the basement. Underground. Great. These creepy bastards sure do know how to keep with an authentic atmosphere.

Swallowing a developing lump in my throat, I take a few glances around and make the sign of the cross. This is probably one of those times where I'll take _any_ help from the Divine. With that done I slowly and quietly make my way down the softly lit corridor. With every step I cringe. It's probably my own paranoia but it sounds like every step forward echoes with a loud boom as if bouncing off the walls.

Why oh fucking why am I doing this again? Why couldn't Kyle just be normal, why couldn't he have just gotten average grades, why couldn't he be happy in South Park? Why, for the love of God, did he have to fall so fast the second he was away from me? Why couldn't he have – shit! Someone's coming!

Looking around wildly, almost crying at the sight that there's nothing to jump behind this time, I begin a mini confession as I push in quickly, and as silently as possible, into the closest door.

Thank God for small miracles. The rooms unlocked and I close the door, just as the voice, or voices, get closer. I look around, groaning at the pitch-black room. Of all the fucking…

I grope around madly for anything, and hope I don't come across a dead body or something equally as gruesome…

"…Okay, calm down, Stan, they probably haven't murdered anyone," I mutter to myself as I keep blindly feeling around. "Yet," I can't help but add as I bump into something hard, and sharp. I wince and bite my lip to keep from swearing. Trying to get a feel for what I bumped into, I sigh in utter relief when I realize it's just the corner of a desk, or table.

At the sound of something I didn't create, I hold my breath and freeze. Oh no, oh please, shit, honestly! It's the doorknob. Of all the fucking places to enter, why is the person of that voice coming in THIS fucking room?! My hands frantically try to get a better feel for whatever it is that I bumped into. Feels like I can hide under it, and I swear, I SWEAR that if I'm now huddling under a table that can reveal me I will be become a goddamn atheist...again!

As I hear the jiggling of my fate rest within that steel knob, I feel like my insides are liquefying. What if it was Kyle? Worse yet, what if it was MILLER? I don't care what they say about that guy, he is freakier than any of these lunatics parading around me! I shiver out of pure nerves and listen for the voices on the other side.

"Yo Andy, that's not the right room," I hear a guy with a rough Brooklyn accent say clearly right outside the doorway. Andy opens the door anyway.

"It _has_ to be in here somewhere," Andy, or who I presume to be Andy, speaks up in a contrastingly proper dialect. "Brother D, can you hand me a light?"

I see the iridescent glow of a lantern light up the wall directly behind me, and I thank the Lord this desk has three sides. Andy shifts through several desks, or what sounds like several desks, before concluding that his partner must've been right after all. They leave without saying another word, and I wait until they are out of hearing distance before I even move a finger.

While they were roaming about, I could see whatever the weak light offered me. I am clearly in a smaller room with a bunch of desks and chairs, most likely used for whenever there _is_ a speaker. They probably need additional seating. I feel my way out of the clutter and place my hand on what seems like the same door I just walked into. However, when I open it up, it leads me into an adjacent room, equally impossible to see. After running into too many things to count (and making just enough noise it could raise suspicion), I find that it may be a better idea for me to get on my hands and knees and crawl. I keep my head up and continue forward until I reach yet _another _door. I can't believe none of these are locked. I'm terrified that they are used by the cult and that one more door and I'll just walk right into my own torture.

When I open this one up, it is no longer completely dark in front of me. Not only this, but I hear voices. It's not the type of voices for me to panic because they're getting closer. They're muffled by the enormous wall of a pillar in front of me, and they ricochet high above me and around me. And below me.

I have stumbled into the side entrance of the lecture hall. And, judging from the looks of things, I'm high above it in what appears to be a balcony. I step to the edge and peer over the side of the railing and see at least fifty guys standing in a semi-circle around a main table adorned with lanterns. The lanterns illuminate the balcony just enough for me to make out a stairwell down, which probably leads to the main floor. I have to get down to their level. I have to see them as closely as possible.

Deciding it's better to leave the door I came through open, rather than risk closing it and being heard, I turn to head down the stairs. With every step down I anticipate a creak in the boards, or for me to miss a step. So far I've been lucky with not being found. At the same time I've been having an uncanny issue with always almost being found. If I'm found this time…well I choose not to think about that. Right now I'm focusing most of my attention on not falling down a ridiculous amount of stairs, while trying to keep my ears on the murmurs floating around me.

Just how damn high up AM I? I can't even see the last step from here. I'm not sure if that's because of the lack of light or if it's because this place is really that far underground. I'm rooting for the former; the last thing I need is to think about is whether or not I'm in what used to be some sort of underground catacomb.

I suddenly grip the railing and suck in a breath when I almost fall. There aren't anymore steps and I began walking as if there was one. So it IS simply a lack of light, not that we're not deep underground. I did notice I was going down an abnormal amount of stairs though. I glance up, making sure to remember the way I came in case I have to go back that way. Which I'd rather not. It's probably over five flights of stairs, definitely not something for the unfit.

Because I was concentrating so hard on not missing a step, and I STILL almost fell, I just about forgot about the HHS. But not anymore. There's no way I could. Not with me being some twenty feet from the closest member, which is a little too close for my taste, but there's nothing for it so I'll have to deal.

While I'm slightly freaked out by this presence of members, I can't help but admit that I'm more in awe than anything else. I'd be lying if I said otherwise. Members aside, the place they're having their little get together is amazing. I thought the outside was worth drooling over, but the inside. I must be farther down than I imagined, because I would swear on my friendship with Kyle that we were in some sort of underground cathedral rather than in a simple basement.

The ceiling is higher than I can see, disappearing in the darkness. And I didn't come out of the only room with a balcony. Looking around there's five others, though it doesn't look like any of them lead to another set of stairs, but all that aside it's the giant fire hearth that absorbs most of my attention. I didn't notice it before since it's beneath the stairs, hidden by the pillar that had been blocking my view earlier.

I _thought_ it was oddly unnatural that a table full of lanterns could light this place so well, even if it still isn't that much. But before I can wonder too much about the safety hazards of having a fireplace underground, a loud voice, one I would recognize anywhere, commands out over the mutters.

"Good evening everyone," Millers voice rings out over the rest, declaring an immediate halt to all other voices.

"Good evening Brother M," chants back the hoard of others.

Brother M?

What the…now that I think about it, I remember one of the guys from earlier saying something about a Brother M. They must've meant Miller, but what's up with the Brother and the letter? It sends a small chill down my spine, especially because Miller's little nickname was said by so many all at once…all slightly emotionless. Even so, I want to get just a tad closer. I can't see Miller, and looking around, I can't see Kyle either.

"It is seventeen past the hour and thus the beginning of weekly chapter. We have much on our agenda, but first things first," Miller announces, and before I can seek out a more fitting hiding place, two members dressed in button-down black collared shirts and black pants walk out carrying what I can only imagine as a fire poker. I duck back behind the stairs as one of them shoots a glare my way. I'm not too afraid, though. It's really dark back here, and I doubt anyone is looking anywhere but Miller. Damn him.

Luckily for me, he steps out from behind the wall that was blocking him to greet the two guys and accept their offering. "Thank you Brother D, Brother A," he says, nodding. He turns back to face the semi-circle of drones. "Tonight we will witness as Brother J pledges himself to the lifelong brotherhood of the High Honors Society. Brother J, come forth."

I strain to focus on the meeting before me, and out steps none other than Danny, err…Jason. So I get their system now. The J for Brother J is Jason, the M is Miller. If they talk about Brother K, I'm going to have a panic attack.

I watch intently as Miller places a hand on Jason's shoulder and speaks loudly. "Brother J, you have come here today, a dedicated member of the High Honors Society, to devote your life to serving the brotherhood." Jason nods. "Do you swear upon your own life that you will withhold the fine values and structures our society has to offer until you are stricken from this world?" Jason nods again, and Miller steps back to address the rest of the members.

"My brothers, Brother J is here today because of the strengths and skills he possesses as a Architect. Here in the society, we seek roles for every lifelong member." He turns back to Jason. "Brother J, you are hereby granted into the elite cluster of the Architect Brothers before us." Miller continues to speak about Jason and his accomplishments, and then he goes into something about his personal feelings towards the guy, but all of my attention has gone to looking for Kyle. At this point, everyone looks the same in their black trousers and black button up shirt. However, it doesn't take me very long, once I really try to pick him out, to spy Kyle. After all, he seems to be the only one with fiery red hair. He's almost facing me, but his eyes are cast toward the spectacle of Jason and Miller.

After some more praising of Jason and what he means to the society, Miller grabs the fire poker and begins walking to the fireplace. "Come, brothers," he signifies, and everyone sort of migrates toward the fireplace, which is DIRECTLY within my view. Every single member comes out of the shadows, including Kyle, as they all shift near the glowing embers of that breathtaking fireplace.

Jason stops directly in front of the display, and begins to unbutton his shirt. My skin seethes with discomfort and I stare wide-eyed as Miller lays the poker into the fire until its end is glowing deep amber.

"You have proven your loyalty to everything this society holds dear. You have given us your trust, and in turn we trust you with our darkest and most well kept secrets." As Miller says this, he raises his free arm in the air and I watch as Jason watches the actions of the other members.

Simultaneously, I watch bewildered as each one of them begins unbuttoning their shirts, peeling them off, and tossing them to the ground, like a well rehearsed choreographed dance. My eyes roam over each member, over Kyle, before they turn back to Miller and Jason. Miller is the only one with his shirt still tightly buttoned and as much as I'd rather not see him exposed, I wonder why…

"Brothers," Miller says in an expectant voice, and I watch as if on cue every other member turn, so that their back is facing the fire, Jason, and Miller.

I'm not sure if the gasp came from me or Jason—hopefully from Jason. Either way it doesn't matter. Everyone is far too involved on the matter at hand to even think that someone would be spying on them. But what caused the gasp, whoever it was from, was the mark on each back that I see. Identical on every back of skin in every color of the human rainbow, is a coat of arms. A coat burned in between the shoulder blades.

I recognize that coat of arms; it was on the letter Austin had gotten awhile back. The one that had warned him to stay out of the HHS' business. I remember because I couldn't make out the picture, but it had been the words that caught my eye. It was Latin and Austin said it translated into 'death does not separate'.

I can feel the color drain from my face. Oh God. They…they fucking brand themselves. Like…like cattle. My breath quickens and I feel something rise in my throat, but I swallow it down forcefully. No way am I puking, not right now anyway. And, oh shit, does that mean Kyle…? My head whips over to where he is, but I frown. He isn't one of the "brothers" that has their backs to me.

"Hesitations Brother J?"

Turning my attention back to Miller I see him eyeing Jason, sympathetically. If Jason weren't such a leech I'd feel bad for him…okay I DO feel bad for him. He may have easily stripped away his shirt, but he clearly didn't know what it meant. He's eyeing the backs of those around him with uneasiness.

Almost as if it came to the both of us I watch as he turns his head to the fire. My own head does the same, and while I can't tell where his eyes landed I can only guess.

The fire poker in Millers hand.

Each coat of arms, on each back was branded on to each person. It must have been done with that poker. Jesus Christ…its too medieval, are they serious?! Miller isn't actually going to carve a blazing hot poker in the middle of Jason's back is he…IS HE?!

"N-no," Jason mutters out. "No hesitations."

I watch as Miller lays his free hand gently on Jason's shoulder. They meet eyes, and Miller gives him a warm smile, the one that could melt butter on someone like Jason. A smile that says he understands his fear, because he's been there, but that it's best to go on with the procedure. Jason falls for it hook line, and he gives Miller a quivering smile back.

"The pain will subside in a few hours, and we have…medics on standby should anything happen," Miller says, in addition to that smile of his.

It seems that's all Jason needs before he nods. I guess that's him saying he approves. I turn my head to the ground. I can't watch this and yet…how could I not?

"Like so many others before you, you are about to enter the eternal bonds of brotherhood!" Miller tells Jason, as he brings the brander painfully close to its destination. "We are one society, Brother J. We are your family. Brothers look after one another, and see through to the end. Turn and face your family," he instructs. Jason seems so small amidst Miller's booming voice, but does what he is told. At the same time, I watch as each 'brother' nods to him in approval.

Miller dips the poker in the fire once more before turning to Jason. "With this symbol, you forever affiliate your life with us. We hold your oath fulfilled!"

If this weren't a deep earth-covered basement cathedral, I'd swear I'd heard thunder and seen lightning at the height of Miller's voice. The sinister expression on his face grows deeper just as the poker sears Jason's back, causing him to bite his lip. As the society's crest is forever imprinted onto his body, I realize I can't feel my legs. I can't feel my lips. My entire body has gone numb with sympathy for the guy. Even if he is a pathetic clone, he doesn't deserve that. NO ONE does.

His back arches as Miller retracts the poker and places it back near the fire. But then, as if he _didn't_ just have a burning hot brander tattoo him, Jason steps forward and into the middle of the crowd. The endless sea of black and skin is too much for my eyes to take. I scope out Kyle once again, taking note that he is still facing me and I'm unable to see that disgusting emblem on his back. But he, along with the others, centers in around Jason as they all begin chanting.

At first, it's barely above a whisper. A variety of male voices trying to raise the volume loud enough to be heard. But then, as they get louder, the chanting becomes clearer. Once again, as if it's rehearsed.

"Now and forever society is true, brothers together, we'll see the end through!" At this, they raise their hands.

"Hail to the high honors!" and a chorus of men chant, "Amen, Amen!"

"Hail to the Founders," and the second round says, "Our Fathers, high honors."

"Keeping the word," one side recites, while the other follows with, "pledging the faith."

"Eternal bond, Death does not separate! Death does not separate, death does not separate, death does not separate," they repeat over and over until once again they've hushed into a whisper.

I…I don't know what just happened, but I'm pretty sure that was their pledge. I'd heard Kyle say those words before, but I didn't…I never…

Shit.

I have to get the fuck out of here, and I have to drag Kyle with me.

Or at least that's what part of me thinks. The part of me that's pulling my body back up into standing position, as I grip the stair railing for support. That urge to puke is coming back again and this time it's harder for me to swallow down. Somehow I manage and I shake away the dizziness that's invading my mind.

Ugh, it's because of that…that smell. Can none of them smell it, or are they too used to it? I, for one, have never smelled the scent of burned flesh. But there's no doubt in my mind that it's exactly what is wafting through my nostrils.

Fuck…

I find myself sitting back down and forcing my head between my legs. I never had much of a strong stomach for things like this. HA! Things like this…as if I see 'things like this' everyday. And, oh God, on top of everything Miller's talking again. I force myself to pay attention again. This isn't the time to wimp out; I came here for a reason. For answers. And yes, I'm not liking them, but I'm getting them and it's going to stay that way.

"We congratulate you Brother J for receiving the second highest honor within our society. For receiving the Vanderbilt Crest, named after our forefather and founder of the High Honors Society and JV College."

A round of congratulations rings out through the men in the hall, but I'm more focused on what Miller said. He said the second highest honor…so, does that mean not everyone is branded? And if that's the SECOND highest honor…what the hell is the first? Once again my eyes are drawn to Miller's covered chest. He's still the only one not exposed, and for the first time ever I really want to see him without that shirt.

And I want to see Kyle's back too! I HAVE to see him. I mean…if he hasn't gone through that experience yet, there's still hope for him, right? I want to dodge my way through the crowd and just march right up to my former best friend and demand to see his back! I know that's completely preposterous, but…somehow…I will find it out. I mean, we DO live in the same room.

"Now onto more pressing matters," Miller begins, and I inwardly groan. First for more information, and then for Jason. Because apparently his lifelong bond through marked skin wasn't pressing enough. "Our next order of discussion is future members. Brother T, I believe you have the binder for our fifth recruit?" Some bigger guy who I assume is Brother T brings forth a white unmarked binder, much like the one that I've seen Kyle have. Miller thanks him quietly and flips through it. He sighs, and I _swear_, rolls his eyes. I'm not close enough to see it, but it's just this feeling I get.

"Right," he continues, "Brother S. We have all agreed upon our future member, have we not?" The crowd nods in unison. "Let us dive further into this issue." Miller closes his binder and looks up at the crowd of members. "Before we bother with his qualifications, and what he may or may not bring to the HHS. We ought to discuss his credentials of even belonging in our specific chapter."

There's another round of nodding. "While we can all admit that he would be a valuable person for our society, I wonder if he'd be valuable to JV's division, and so I open the floor for polite debate on this matter."

A general consensus mutters its way through the voices before someone in particular speaks up over the hum. "I for one am against it."

"And why is that?" Miller questions calmly. "Come face your fellows, Brother L."

Said Brother L does as he's told and walks through the crowd to stand beside Miller and face the others. I almost let out a loud sigh of relief when I see his back. He's unmarked, which means everyone isn't branded, which means Kyle…might still be untouched. "I do agree Brother S would be a valuable resource to the High Honors Society, but not our chapter. His defiance is simply unquestionable! To befriend that bastard of a man, who-"

"We're not here to name call," Miller interrupts.

Brother L sighs, as if calming himself, "you are right, of course. I simply mean to say he would not fit in with our chapter. He simply wouldn't."

"I think he'd go fine," another voice calls out and few mutter in agreement. The guy in question steps forward, another faceless person in a sea of a faceless crowd. "So he's hanging out with that outcast, so what? Plenty of us were, and we NEED more people of his interest in our division[We only have two!"

"Two is more than enough, brother. Need I remind you we are looking for originality and an individual outlook to each member?" Miller argues. He is clearly against the new recruit. "And this is our final recruit of the year, brothers. We must choose wisely. Are we absolutely certain Brother S has what it takes? Does he deserve our brotherhood? I've seen him falter in judgment more than once. I fear he could taint our standards and practices. Even blatantly at that."

"I disagree, Brother M," another voice speaks up, and it sends an extra beat to my already fast beating heart when I connect the voice with it's owner. The crowd separates so that Kyle can walk closer to Miller. Kyle. My Kyle.

"Brother K, explain your thoughts and decisions on the matter."

"I've been keeping an eye on Brother S and I can assure you that he is exactly what this chapter needs. He may seem defiant, but his passion is something we cannot go without. I recommend his recruitment right away."

Wow. Kyle stood up to his precious Miller. And who the hell is this new guy that _Kyle_ has been watching? Why Kyle? He's already so stuck up Miller's ass, he doesn't need yet another lackey to look after. I still don't get what he sees in these guys. I barely see enough of him as it is, and now I learn its to "keep an eye" on this, this Brother S?

"And I agree!" A voice calls out, a different one than before. But just as quickly as people are to agree, just as many seem to disagree, and it seems almost as if the high and mighty HHS might actually break out into a bit of a fight before Miller raises his hand and his voice.

"Enough," he calls out, sounding annoyed. "Brother S is not highly in my favor," he begins after he's made sure there is absolute silence. "But I recognize the fact that while half of us do not agree with his recruitment, that the mere fact he's almost caused all of us, brothers, to argue in such a common way…I cannot help but think that perhaps Brother K, and Brother Y have a valid point. No one has stirred us quite like he has. In both negative and…" I can tell he's looking at Kyle. "Positive ways."

"Besides," pipes up…I think its Brother Y. Hell, it's hard to keep track of people as letters. I wonder what happens when they run out of them… "I've heard a certain president was quite the deviant before he joined."

There's a collective chuckle as a few of the members, ones who look slightly older than the rest, eye Miller.

Miller smirks and shakes his head, "all too true, and after learning such information I assume that our little debate over Brother S is over and done with?"

The men nod and I find myself almost surprised at how quickly things were resolved.

"Then we agree that the pursuit of Brother S should take place full force?"

"Agreed!" They call out together.

…_tbc…_


	9. Part II

**The Reformation of Kyle Broflovski**

**VIII. **The Intrusion

Part II

Man, I feel sorry for this new victim of theirs. It's almost as if they're hunting him down, not recruiting him. It seems he doesn't want to go willingly. Maybe it's…maybe its Austin! I mean, they _did_ say he was defiant. Then again…those guys wouldn't want Austin in their group., not to mention that Austin's name doesn't start with an 'S'. Why would they want him, with the way Kyle talks about him? Unless that's the way they talk about their 'brothers'. Backstabbing and deceitfully. In that case, this 'family' isn't as loyal as they like to preach.

What the hell is the family for anyway? What is the HHS for? What do they do? I never see them doing service projects for the college, and if Vanderbilt himself started it all, I'd think they'd be doing shit for the school, for their 'father'. I'd like to think that the old man _didn't_ mean for his society to become so…so…

"The vote is unanimous. Now, the next item on the agenda," Miller begins once again, and I lose all train of thought, "is personal to me. I am concerned about the lack of secrecy we are upholding in our good founder's name. Brothers, might I remind you that this was, and still is, a society in which we can come together to escape the outsiders of our kin? And yet the HHS has become part of everyday conversation to our fellow student body. Why are such discussions taking place?" The crowd dies down so that I can actually _hear_ the quiet. "Does anyone have any ideas on how to silence them?"

"Brother M," a voice speaks up. "I…fail to see the concern for the sudden rumors going around about us. I think it shows how important we are, shows our power."

The usual mutters flow through the group as people agree and disagree.

"How can you fail to see the concern?" My eyes whip over at the sound of Kyle's voice. "The HHS isn't about being an elitist club, regardless that we are," he adds when a few people smirk. "It was never meant to being about that. Who here was considered an outsider in high school, unpopular?" I watch surprised as about half of the members raise their hands. "We weren't created to show our superiority, we were created to use our superiority to guide others. It isn't about boasting and claiming how we are the best, and I think more often than not, we forget that. The rumors only add flame to that fire."

"Wonderfully put Brother K," Miller mutters as he eyes Kyle. "Perhaps you have an idea on how to silence the gossip mill?"

"I do," Kyle says firmly, his eyes unblinking on Miller. He walks over to join Miller at the head of the gathering, yet his back is still out of vision. As he walks, the fire creates shadows and highlights within his surprisingly toned abdomen, and I'm beginning to understand where all of that strength came from. His biceps are flexed so that I can see their growth as well. I didn't know he looked like _that_. He…I mean they…must work out a lot.

I can now only hear his voice, as he is on the other side of his leader. But even though I know this, I'm having a difficult time matching the raspy voice with the once-innocent face of my former best friend. His words are laced with pure venom as he proceeds with the plan. "There is one which we speak of," he mutters. "An outsider who is detrimental to our secret. He has already poisoned the minds of several, and he has the power and knowledge to poison many more. I speak of him out of concern, for he is now trying to convert someone _I_ love. We must dispose of him quickly to avoid any further suspicion."

Miller yawns as he speaks, or at least, opens his mouth widely out of exasperation. "To do so would be critical to our foundation, Brother K. We cannot 'dispose' of him—and I know of whom you speak of—because he simply knows too much. And we are all aware of his disdain. To do so would be foolish. Outsiders would be further suspicious. This cannot be done so swiftly. Any other ideas?"

Phew. I knew who they were talking about too. And…and for MY Kyle to even _make_ such a proposal…well. I hate to say it, but I no longer recognize my old best friend.

Ideas continue to be exchanged between the members, with them coming to the front and explaining their reasoning's behind them. Miller seems completely absorbed in what each has to say. He adds in his input, lets others discuss over it, and continues to act as the firm yet fair leader.

It makes me wonder if he's purposely avoiding Kyle's angry glare, or if he honestly can't feel it. Though I can't imagine he can't. _I_ can feel Kyle's rage from here, and if the look he's getting from the other members is anything to go by, they can feel it as well. Not that I'm too surprised by his reaction. Must be a complete slap in the face for him for his dear Miller to disagree on something he feels so passionately about.

At the same time I can't help but smirk. Maybe this will put a little dent in their relationship.

"Are we all in agreement on what ought to be done with the gossipers of our college?"

Shit! I turn my attention back to Miller. I had been so focused on Kyle that I didn't hear what the agreement was! The HHS members cheer their agreement, but Kyle frowns and remains silent.

"If there are no other immediate issues, we will break up into our discussion panels, resuming last week's debate. Remember, if any one panel feels the need to share their deliberations with the society, please come forward at the given time. Our current subject is one to be taken seriously, brothers. I'd like to hear what each group has to say before the end of this year. Go forth," Miller dismisses them with a flick of the wrist, and he lays the binder and other information about the recruit by the fire.

I suck in my breath as the society disperses into various dark confines still within the room, and once again, find myself ready to piss my pants should one of them meet here. I guess tonight I've got luck on my side, because no one even seems to notice this stairway. Although now I'm far away from all the action, and I can't hear a damn word anyone is saying. I know I'm pressing my luck, but I wiggle myself free of my current home in search of somewhere closer.

My heart stops moving when Miller begins walking toward me. Directly toward me. He's adjusting the collar on that shirt of his as though he's about to have a nervous breakdown. I suddenly feel like my _own_ collar is choking me, though I'm not wearing one. Without much time to think, I duck behind a pillar about ten feet away from the comfort of the stairs and freeze any and all movements. As his footsteps approach, I hear someone else's approach _his_.

"What the hell was that, Mill?" Kyle spits out, and I can tell Miller has stopped dead in his tracks. They are on the opposite side of the room from everyone else, but even so, I know that Miller is glaring at how commonly Kyle just addressed him. Ten bucks says they're going to get into it right now.

"What exactly do you mean, _Brother_ K?" He responds back, emphasizing the brother.

"Don't play formalities with me," Kyle hisses back. "And you know damn well what I mean. My idea to get rid of our society's little dissenter? Ring a bell Miller?" Kyle stresses Miller's name back, almost mockingly.

He frowns down at Kyle, obviously a little irritated with his treatment. "Don't you pretend that your hatred against him isn't personal. You're being irrational if you think getting rid of him would solve our problems."

"You don't like him either!"

"None of us like him," Miller corrects. "But you're the only one that hates him for who he befriended, rather than the damage he can cause to the HHS."

Clearly upset, Kyle turns his eyes away from Miller to probably look at nothing in particular. The other members are far too busy entering their little discussion panels to pay any attention to their leader or Kyle. Because if they had, I'm sure someone would be saying something about Kyle and Miller's side conversation.

"You know my veto of your suggestion was for the good of the society, Brother K," Miller adds for his case, though its clear Kyle wants to hear nothing of it. Miller sighs and a surge of anger and even jealousy courses through me as I watch him reach out and gently brush Kyle's fingers with his own. It's a light touch and goes unnoticed by the other members. But I'm not the other members, and neither is Kyle.

I can tell he tensed at the touch, but he doesn't exactly move his hand either. "Kyle," Miller mutters very softly, so much that even I can barely hear it. "You know it was for the best."

Kyle still doesn't respond, but at least he moves his hand away. I let out a sigh, and then furrow my eyebrows in bewilderment. I hadn't realized I was holding my breath.

"Ky, understand my position as president."

It takes all of my self-control to not holler out. The next time I see that bastard face-to-face, I will remind him that I am the only person with the rights to call Kyle, Ky. Not to mention I don't like the tone he used while saying it, or the face he's giving. It's almost like he's pleading with Kyle. It'd be funny, if it weren't so sickening, and if I didn't think it would work on Kyle.

He finally looks back to Miller, still completely unpleased with him. "Of course BROTHER M. You know what's best…" he mutters out the last bit and turns to head for a group that has situated themselves in a far corner I have no hope of overhearing.

"Does he really mean that much to you?" Miller suddenly says, breaking from the silence he was in as he watched Kyle get farther and farther from him. They're so far apart I'm surprised that Kyle even heard. But he did, because he turns around to face him. Eyebrows raised as if to say: 'do you even have to ask?' Before he turns back around to head for the small group.

Miller, too, turns back around, and I whip my body into hiding before he can see me. He heads toward this way again and I hear him mutter, "he doesn't deserve you."

I narrow my eyes and immediately feel the rage course through my veins. _I_ don't deserve him? How about _he_ doesn't deserve him?! I can barely fathom how he got Kyle in the first place! Kyle would never under ordinary circumstances befriend the likes of him. Miller's the sort of guy we would both generally not get along with, with his whole 'holier than thou' attitude. I almost want to march up to him and have a confrontation, just the two of us. We'll see who deserves Kyle!

I don't even stand. While I think this, I can't possibly do it. Miller still has the upper hand being surrounded with HHS members, and given the conditions Kyle and I are under, I don't think he'd be too happy to see me right now. All I can do now is sit here and gather as much information as I can. Then once I've gathered enough I'll destroy this-

"Brother M?" A voice whispers, and I realize that during my inner rant, someone has approached Miller. It sounds like one of the guys who was supposed to be guarding the entrance to this place. I immediately squeeze myself further into my hiding spot, regardless that it really does nothing.

"What?" Miller snaps back.

I smirk. Looks like the thought of an angry Kyle doesn't sit well with him. Not that I can blame him, Kyle can be a right pain in the ass when he's in a mood.

"We…I apologize profusely, but there is reason to believe there may be an outsider in the building."

While my complexion drains, and while I feel my hands beginning to sweat, I hear Miller's response. "There's a _what_ in this building?!"

"It's, it's just a suspicion, but-"

"Why wasn't I informed of this earlier?" He hisses at the guy. "Do you mean to tell me some random student is running around, possibly listening in on our PRIVATE meeting?!"

The guy's almost shivering, not that I can blame him, but what happens to him is not my concern. What _is_ my concern is getting the fuck out of here, but it seems at the shock of people realizing I'm here, my body locks. All it'll take is one command from Miller and every single HHS member will be scouring this building, this room! It wont be hard to find me, especially given the fact that I'm only about ten feet from Miller.

I rest my head against the pillar I'm hiding against and take a few deep inhales of air. This is probably not the time to lose myself. I have to move. On that command, I peer around the corner and see Miller's back is to me. The little weasel is to the side, but his head's down; taking his punishment like the snitch he is, no doubt. I glance around at the other members. Everyone seems preoccupied with their discussion; I guess there's no time like the present to bolt for the stairs.

Quieter than I ever imagined possible, I reach the base of the stairs and begin a slow ascent. Though it's pretty hard to be so slow about it when all I really want to do is sprint. I can still hear Miller and the other guy talking. Why of all times DID that guy decide to tell Miller about the strange activity that happened with the door upstairs? Guess he suddenly got a guilty conscience…

"Well did you check the foyer?" Millers voice follows me, surrounding me as I ascend. I've now climbed high enough I feel the walls around me once again, and I refuse to look down.

"And every room has been cleared?" he continues, his voice growing with both apprehension and anger.

I continue to climb.

"It clearly wasn't a thorough search!" I hear Millers voice snap again, but even his loud voice is growing a bit distant. "I want you to resume the search; I'm breaking up this meeting, but under no circumstances do you repeat what you've told to me to anyone else, understand?"

"Yes Brother M…"

Their voices are all but whispers by the time I reach the landing up on the balcony. Not wanting to waste time, I walk hastily over to the door I came out of not long before and dart inside. I'm so glad I left it open. But now, now I'm unsure of where to go. I hear Miller's voice boom out over the lecture hall announcing that the time has come for them to wrap their conversations up, and that there will be no discussions after the panel meetings—the society is adjourned.

I have no idea how the members will get back outside, but I'm not taking my chances going through that hallway again. My best bet is to stay hidden in one of these side rooms until I can no longer hear any voices. I really have no choice where to go now, though. If they're going to conduct a search of the building, they could find me anywhere.

Luckily, because the entire meeting was in poor light, my eyes can see through the room way easier than they could before. I can actually make out furniture and the other door I had walked through. I easily avoid everything I had probably bumped into earlier in the evening, and I make my way into the neighboring room. Once inside, I spot my previous hiding place behind that desk. If anyone searches that room, chances are, they're going to find me.

Let's just pray they don't search that room.

I crouch down in the familiar and uncomfortable position I've been in all night and take a deep breath. Bringing my knees up to my chin, I hug my legs and close my eyes. I feel like _I'm_ the one doing something wrong here, though it's clear that I just attended the most fucked up gathering I'll ever see in my life. I've seen things I don't plan to _ever_ see again. And I've heard some things that could make a grown man cry. What am I going to do with this newfound information? How should I act upon releasing Kyle from this wretched society? Will I ever be able to be successful? Fuck, I don't have the answers for anything anymore.

Pretty soon I hear the constant shuffle of footsteps outside of the only barrier separating me from those animals. The seemingly endless string continues long after I tune them out. Its almost a march—they walk in a cadence of pure silence. A thousand minutes go by before I take my next breath. The marching has stopped.

I do not plan to move from this position until I am absolutely certain that no one will be on the other side of that door. And I really…can't…be absolutely certain, so it looks like this will be a long night.

My eyes grow weary, and I lay my head in my crossed arms. I've long since lost feeling in my extremities, but to move a muscle is to risk being heard. I've never been in a room this quiet before. It's eerily calm. Like something is about to break its tranquility.

When I jolt my head up I realize I've fallen asleep. I almost want to groan at the protest my body is making at having been in such an uncomfortable position for…how long has it been? A few hours, a few minutes? Christ I'm exhausted. I just want to be back in my dorm room asleep and-

Oh yeah…at the sound of someone clearing his throat, I'm reminded that I didn't wake myself up. Someone else did it for me. I've never wanted to stand so much in my life, as I do right now, but Goddamnit I can't! I can't even tell where that throat clearing came from. I can see one thing, and that's the wall. A light's been flicked on, and that does little to ease my nerves. At least before I had a bit of protection in the darkness. Now all it'll take is for someone to lean over and see me. At least my shadow is aimed in front of me.

There's a knock on the door and I have to bite my own tongue to keep myself from jolting in surprise.

"This had better be good news," a clear voice calls out, and I almost want to bang my head against the wall in front of me. Of all the people in the entire HHS why is it _always_ Miller? Why can't it be Brother Q, or Brother B, who's in here? Why MILLER?! And what's he doing in here anyway…what kind of room am I in for that matter…

"It's me," I hear a muffled voice respond as the owner opens the door.

"What're you still doing here?" Miller asks listlessly.

"Wanted to see if you wanted to walk back to Windermere together."

Kyle?! Kyle's here? Okay, so then the meeting must not have ended that long ago. I can't see any other reason for him to have stuck around so long.

"What do you imagine I would still be doing here? Our perpetrator has yet to be caught, and until he is I'm not leaving…so I might as well go over the minutes and such."

I hear Kyle let out an exasperated sigh, "it was probably a stray cat. Marc and Walt may not be the smartest of us all, but they're not idiotic enough to let someone in. Besides, there were far too many of us to not notice someone. We didn't find anyone Mill, because there wasn't anyone, so can you please call it a night?"

There's a ruffle of papers, and a squeak, probably from a chair. At the start of the sounds I attempt to pop my neck, sighing when I'm able to crack it a bit. That feels a little bit better.

"I didn't realize you and I were on good terms once again," I hear Miller continue.

"Oh, we're not," Kyle bites back, but I can tell it's somewhat of a joke. I've known that guy so long I can actually HEAR when he's smiling. "But I guess I'll let it slide. This time."

"What a relief," Miller says blandly. Apparently, he can't joke around even if he's trying to. I hear feet shuffle and someone sigh. "I'm tired of these incompetent pricks, Ky." I twitch at the nickname. "I gave them one job, ONE duty, and they have failed."

"Yeah, not all of us are as flawless as the great Miller Bradley. Some of us just aren't as lucky, I guess."

"Are you mocking me?" Miller asks, still a bit on edge.

"I'm just tired. Let's go!" It saddens me to hear Kyle's voice so energetic and responsive. The Kyle I love—the one that sounded like this all the time with _me_—is gone.

"Let go of me, I'm staying here until I can get this resolved," Miller huffs. "Though I can't see shit with these glasses anymore. I think I'm going to throw them out, along with Marc and Walt."

Kyle smirks. "You're just upset over nothing. And keep them. They look good on you."

I feel my eye twitch as I envision what comes next so vividly. I see their faces, their expressions, everything. They're back on Kyle's bed, and I'm back in my dream again. And I feel my stomach knot up and my fists involuntarily tighten. I hate it when I'm right.

"Why are you trying so hard with him, Kyle?" Miller asks with a gentle and curious voice. One I didn't know he had. "It's clear he wants nothing to do with you."

"That's not true, Mill."

"Don't you realize a good thing when you see it?" Miller questions, and I feel my blood boil. Holy SHIT, he's coming onto Kyle!

"Yeah, I do," Kyle replies. "Look, if you're planning on staying here for much longer, I'm just going to go now."

"I can't abandon my post," Miller states emphatically, and I want to laugh in his face.

"Then I'll see you tomorrow." And I hear Kyle exit.

"Yeah…see you tomorrow," Miller repeats.

I'm half ecstatic that Kyle more or less told Miller he hasn't got a chance, but at the same time, I'm irritated at the fact that Miller didn't go with Kyle. Something I'll probably never admit to again. But if Miller stays here all night, so do I, and my position isn't getting any more comfortable. I guess I can count my blessings, though, as I no longer feel circulation in my legs.

At the same time I think I'd rather lose all feeling in my body than have that blonde rat walk back to the dorms with Kyle.

I hear Miller release a bunch of sighs, before he mutters something even I can't hear. "Damn it Kyle," THAT I do hear, and I also hear as he walks across the room, opens the door and slams it shut behind him.

I hold my breath and keep absolutely still until I hear the sound of that large entryway in the front slam shut for the final time. Still, I'm in no rush to get out of here. Although it's creepy as fuck given the context of what happens here, I'm not in the mood to go through all of this trouble only to be captured by someone lagging behind. Another few minutes and I should be good to go.

Those few minutes turn into much, much longer, because when I finally DO wake up from the most intensely disturbing sleep I've ever had, there is natural light filtering through the cracks in the blinds. Matter of fact, it is that beam of light shining directly onto my face that awakens me. I think it's safe to say I can probably leave now.

Wish I could tell my body that. I've never been in the same position for so long, I think I'm going to have to break my legs to get them to move. I'm pretty sure I've paralyzed myself for life. With every aching stretch, I release another body part from the cubbyhole until I'm lying flat on my back and practically crying from the pain.

I want. To die.

Not truly, but hell if it doesn't feel like it. I can't imagine moving from this spot…ever. I'm not even sure my body would allow it, and at the thought of moving I cringe inwardly. Moving…ughn, maybe later.

But as the light in the room rises higher because of the sun I realize I cant possibly stay here forever. My stomach simply won't allow it, and I suppose I might be wondered about in my classes. Austin for sure will want to know where the hell I am and Kyle…oh shit.

I envision myself jolting up, since I can't actually do it. Kyle's probably wondering where the hell I am too. I've completely forgotten about that due to my muscle pain. Which means its time to get them working again, and get on my way. I'm not even sure who uses this building during the day, though it's probably a safe bet to say students aren't allowed in the offices and storage rooms.

I crack my back one last time and cry out in agony. I take a deep breath and force myself upwards, finding that I have to steady myself on the edge of the table for support. Every step feels like I'm learning how to walk again, but with joints that are about eighty years old. I'm horribly uncoordinated, running into _anything_ in the room, whether it's in my way or not. I cautiously unlatch the door once I reach it, though I'm certain no HHS member could've POSSIBLY spent all night here. Sure enough, the halls are empty. And as I walk straight out of the front door, the campus is deserted. It's still too early to even consider being up.

I was lucky. I was goddamn lucky this whole night. And…the experience of it all…wow. Nothing has quite sunk in yet, except for the smell of burnt human flesh, about what I witnessed. And I'm going to come out smelling like roses. I can't believe it. I can't believe I got away with that! If it weren't for this dreadful feeling in the pit of my stomach, I'd feel on top of the world right now.

Alas, I couldn't feel further from it. Kyle may have turned Miller down (check one for Kyle), but he is still part of an 'eternal bond of brotherhood' with a horrifying cult. And he's going to notice I wasn't in the room when he got back. How am I going to get out of this one?

I do know that the campus library is open 24 hours, but if I look down at myself and my condition, I obviously wasn't at the damn library. My clothes are crumbled, my hair is probably a mess, and I probably look somewhere near death. Not to mention I don't have a single notebook or book in my hand.

No, an excuse of the library wont fly with Kyle, it barely flies with me. But as I near Windermere my mind starts whirling with what to tell Kyle as my excuse. I could say I went to the gym…or not, wrong clothes. I could say I went for a morning walk. Except, I never go for morning walks and it still wouldn't explain why I'm wearing YESTERDAYS clothes.

Or I could say…

My smile is widely in place as I watch Austin open his dorm door. The idea to come to his room was almost stupidly obvious. He's a better alibi than anything else I've come up with.

He looks rather unimpressed as he eyes me up and down with his hung head and blackened bags. "Need something?" He asks dryly.

"Yeah, a change of clothes, and it would be nice if you could tell Kyle I've been with you all night," I explain in the hallway.

He lets me in without saying anything, instead opting to scratch the side of his face. "But you were really where?"

I want to tell him, I do. I want to tell him every sight, smell, and feel I took in. I want to tell him about their conversation about him…and how he's actually safer than any average Joe walking the sidewalks. But I know now's not the time, and quite honestly, I'm not sure if ever will be. He might be pissed that I went without him, though I know we would've gotten caught for sure if he was my accomplice. Two can't move as stealthily as one. "In the library," I weakly reply.

He snorts. "Yeah, those libraries, man. They can be vicious. And Kyle's got it out for them, doesn't he." Even in sleep mode, he's still as sarcastic as ever.

"Okay, I was snooping where I shouldn't have been snooping," I admit. "I'll tell you about it later, but for now, give me a…pair of running shorts." He does so and I change into them. I also change into a T-shirt he gave me, and then promptly douse my face and hair with water, allowing some of it to dribble onto the shirt. "Do I look like I've been exercising?"

"You look like you poured a bucket of water on your head," he tells me, and I smile. Good enough. I'll tell Kyle I woke up, went over to Austin's, and then woke up real early for a run. Otherwise why the hell would I be up at…I glance over at the clock…6:30 in the morning?

"Thanks man," I say, already heading out the door.

"Yeah whatever…" he mumbles out and shuts it, probably to go back to sleep. I take the necessary flights to get to my floor, all while pulling on Austin's shorts and t-shirt. I'm fidgeting, and I need to stop it BEFORE I enter my room.

Pausing outside of the door, I crack my knuckles and my neck. I've never been the greatest actor, but when the time arises I can lie myself through anything, even if I'd rather not…especially not to Kyle. I push that thought aside and enter the room, trying to be as subtly quiet as a roommate who's just coming back from a jog would.

Without even getting a chance to close the door I see Kyle, fresh and alert, staring right at me. I close the door.

I run a hand through my hair, hoping it looks like I'm wiping the "sweat" from my face. God, I hope I smell…

"Where've you been?" He says right off the bat. Not that this new Kyle is one for beating around the hedges…

"Jog obviously," I say and head for our mini fridge, pulling out a bottle of water. I actually could use some water, if only to calm down my nerves.

"You normally jog at 1 am?"

"What are you talking about?" I question, as I cap the bottle of water.

"When I came back from the bathroom," I almost want to snort. He doesn't even hesitate in his own lie. "You weren't here. You were asleep when I left…where'd you go? You like to jog for five hours Stan? I know you're fit…but honestly…"

"I…went to Austin's." Damn. I hesitated, but I think I can get away with that. I can probably shake that off as normal since I don't usually like to tell Kyle about hanging out with Austin, and he should know this.

"In the middle of the night?" he asks incredulously.

"Yeah…" I say, leaving my statement hanging, but not because I'm stuttering. Because I'm acting like that's NOT a big deal.

"I believe the jogging excuse more, Stan," he states frankly. Without losing my eye contact, he gets up off his bed and joins me by the fridge. I notice right away he is scoping me out, trying to decide where I've really been. And I'm checking him out too. He's wearing a plain green t-shirt and black running shorts. I'm hoping he has yet to take a shower so I can see whether or not he is one of them…but for now, he keeps himself covered. Come to think of it, I haven't seen him without a shirt since he's been here. Almost as if he IS hiding something.

We're both hiding something now.

"Believe what you want," I say casually. "I'm tired. I'm going to nap before speech class." I breeze right past him over to my side of the room.

His voice follows me. "Why would you go over to Austin's so late?" he asks, curiosity hidden in his otherwise cold voice.

Failing to turn around again, I state into the wall. "I missed him." I grab my sleeping clothes that I had left draped over an opened dresser drawer and start to change. There's no way Kyle will let that jab slide, but I couldn't help myself.

"Missed him, did you?" I hear him question. I shrug my shoulders and continue to change facing away from him. It would be nice to be able to get in a few hours before I have to go to class and face Miller like I'm still oblivious to the fact that he's the leader of a college cult. "What, you can't fall asleep without your new best friend?"

"Apparently not," I say through clenched teeth as I slide into bed.

"I'm no longer surprised by that," he says and I turn my head to glance over at him.

"That's new, but you're wrong, as you usually are recently," I say to him, and go back to facing my wall. "He's still not my best friend, that role is still reserved for you. The real you, if he's still interested."

I'm being rather calm, but I can't help it. It's not as if fighting does anything. And we had such a good thing going on the last few days. It was strained and I'd rather us be acting like the friends I know we can still be, but at least things were calm. I snort into my pillow. Calm before the storm that is. Now that I've seen an HHS meeting…I don't see my life getting any calmer than it is right now.

Kyle passes what I said off with a sneer and a huff. When I turn back around to see what he means by that, he won't even look at me. He's too busy acting like what I said was a crime.

"I wait up all night for you to make sure you're okay, and it turns out you went over to meet your _boyfriend_? Clearly I'm not even in the rankings for that role anymore."

I turn my body completely over so that I'm facing him and prop myself up on my elbow, looking directly at him. "Why do you keep calling him my boyfriend?" I ask with an innocent voice, avoiding the previous conversation that would've gotten us nowhere. I forgot—the current Kyle clams up every time we discuss how he's different from before.

He sighs and looks back at me with an almost pleading look, but it's fleeting. "Now that you're back, I guess I can get some sleep too."

I purse my lips and fake sentiment. "Aww, Kyle was worried about me!" He glares at me. "I wish I could believe you. Goodnight." And before he can retort, I pull the covers up over my eyes and bundle myself in. No use in getting into the second round of the episode. I've had enough fucked up experiences for one night, thank you.

My covers are ripped from my body seconds later and I peer up curiously and confusedly at, surprise surprise, an enraged Kyle. "If I could have my covers back please," I say annoyed.

"No," he snaps. "How dare you ridicule me for being worried about you! I was worried about you! You weren't here when I got back and I practically waited up all night for you, but you never came back! Why wouldn't I be worried?! You have no reason to suddenly disappear in the middle of the night!"

Yeah, not like you.

I hold that retort back. "Well I'm fine, and I told you I was at Austin's."

"And I'm telling you I don't believe that half assed lie! WHERE WERE YOU?!"

Letting out a long sigh I glare up at him, "would you calm down for once!"

"Calm down? Get it in your head Stan! You vanished for over five hours! No note, no call…"

"This isn't the first time I've been gone for hours on end! If you've forgotten I lived with Austin for practically two weeks! You didn't call out the cavalry then!"

"Yes, but that was before…" He trails off and drops my covers.

I narrow my eyes suspiciously, "that was before what?"

He sighs and walks away. "Didn't you say you wanted to get some sleep before classes," he mutters, and it's more a statement, or a cop out, than a question.

"Oh no. No, no, no, no," I repeat, enraged as I peel off the covers myself and head over to him with a full head of steam. "You can't get off that easily, Kyle. Not this time. What were you going to say? And if you change the topic again, I'm walking out of this door right now. And this time, I _won't_ come back."

He shifts his weight and straightens his posture so that he's looking even MORE down on me. He takes a few steps forward to meet me in my face, and rolls his tongue around in his mouth, never breaking eye contact. I KNOW he's trying to intimidate me—trying to get me to cower in his presence the way everyone else in this school does, but I am no pushover, and I am tired of these face-to-face confrontations. Now is the time for him to tell me what's on his mind.

"I don't really think you're in the position to be making any threats, Stan," he begins.

"And YOU'RE not in any position to cross me, Kyle. Believe me, you don't want to go down that path again. I might not be so kind this time," I growl.

He glares at me, and we're back where we started. In this damn position, breathing heavily into each other's faces and waiting out for the first one to throw a punch. It won't be him this time. While I'm yearning for my friend right now, nothing changes the fact that he's not here. And he won't be showing up anytime soon. "You're pushing your luck, Stan. I've been lenient with you so far. I've kept my mouth shut about your escapades with that twerp. You should be thanking me."

I laugh in his face. "Thanking you? For what?"

"For putting up with that little crush of yours. He doesn't mean anything to you. He can't."

Where is this coming from? He looks and sounds possessed right now. I have a really bad feeling about this, but I say it anyway. "Why not?"

"Because. You're mine," Kyle declares.

My jaw almost drops, but my eyes do widen for a second before they narrow. "I'm yours? Am I a thing?"

"No, of course not, but he is playing you like one. Making you his personal side kick, brainwashing you to believe what he wants you to believe to turn you against me. I never thought the day would come when you and I were on opposite sides of the playing field. Personally, I've had enough of you batting for the other team."

"Oh," I shake my head in disbelief. "And what do you plan to do about it huh?" I take a few steps back from him, knowing I ought to shut up before I say anything I might regret. "Make Austin disappear?" I question jokingly, mocking the talk of his own damn club.

Kyle's face falls blank, and I stare back unblinkingly. "I'll do it one better," he mutters. "Either way," he speaks back up. "Either way I want you to remember that I'm not letting you go." He approaches me and leans in close to my face. I lean back slightly, caught off guard and observe as his light green eyes drill into me.

When his hand brushes my cheek I flinch, thinking he was going to hit me. He seems to have realized this and his face softens, and for the smallest of seconds I see a pain flash in his eyes…pain at the idea that I might possible be afraid of him. But it's gone before I can study it more.

His fingers roam softly over my cheek and I close my eyes at the touch. It's such a gentle touch. Closing my eyes makes it seem like I'm with the real Kyle again. That is until he pulls my hair.

"Ouch, you asshole!" I bark out and push back away from him, while wondering if the heat in my face is from the tug of hair, or if it's from Kyle.

He's smiling. He's abused me and he's smiling, but…its in that lopsided way. His heads even a little titled too…it looks just like my best friend.

"Let's have dinner together, Stan."

The way his expression is, it's so, it's nothing like he's given me since I've been here. It's barely anything I've seen before. It's like the light's come back into his eyes, and that everything the HHS has done to taint him has suddenly – wait, what did he say?

"What was that?" I ask out loud, before clearing my throat and repeating myself when I hear how rusty it sounds.

"I said, let's have dinner together, tonight, in the cafeteria. We haven't eaten together in ages."

…but, what about, is he serious? "Are you serious?" I ask aloud. I can still feel as my face flushes.

"Of course I am. I'm not losing you to that rat. He doesn't deserve you, Stan." Hmm, where have I heard THAT phrase before? Oh YEAH! Miller. Talking about me. Talking about Kyle.

"O-okay, lets have dinner then," I decide, trying my best to smile a weak smile. But I have to remember, this isn't Kyle in front of me. Then again, maybe…the way he's looking at me, it's almost like he's _trying_. Trying to be himself again.

He sends me a grin so warm it could melt ice cubes. "Get some sleep. I'm going to take a shower," he tells me, leaving me quickly without another word. I stand there dumbfounded for what seems like ten minutes before I finally walk back over to my bed and slide inside. I can't honestly get some sleep when Kyle just pulled _that_ on me. Why is he being nice? What is he planning to do? Oh God, what if this dinner isn't a dinner at all? What if he knows about where I was last night and he's only pretending to be nice so that he can deliver me to his master still alive? What if this is all just another mood swing that he's going to deny happened in the first place?

I cuddle up into my comforter, though I don't feel the slightest bit comforted. I'm so fucking confused with every waking minute, so maybe it's best if I DO get some sleep. Certainly couldn't hurt. Maybe, with luck, I'll be asleep by the time he gets back in here.

I drift in and out of consciousness. Trying to stay awake, while trying to fall asleep. Of course I need some rest, my body is crying out for some due to the sham of a good night's rest I gave it only a few hours ago under a desk. Even so, I'm kinda…giddy at the idea of having a meal with Kyle. He's right when he said we haven't shared one together in ages. Nevertheless I wont disregard the fact that it's sudden and unlike his usual behavior toward me.

My mind starts to consider the food we'll get together, and the conversation we'll have over it. I can see us laughing together, him giving me that bright smile I never get to see anymore. We'll joke and talk about old times, and try to talk about new ones.

With Kyle and me getting our first amount of time alone, I hope Austin understands if I ditch him. I'm sure he'd do the same if Jason came around.

…oh shit, Jason…I forgot all about him and his new…decoration branded on his back. I wonder if I should tell Austin. No, I couldn't possibly, I wouldn't want him to know that it was so awful and disgusting that I had to watch.

The thought of Jason reminds me of Kyle. I have yet to discover if Kyle too has the crest. If he does…I'm not sure what I'll do. What sort of reaction I'll have, but I'm positive it wont be a happy one. I shift in my bed to look at the door. He said he was taking a shower, and he expects me to be asleep…we almost always change in our room, now shouldn't be any different. This is probably one of the few times I'll get a chance to peek at his bare back.

As I hear the door start to open, I heft up my covers so they're covering the lower part of my face, and close my eyes slightly. I leave them open enough that I can barely make out his figure through my eyelashes. He's tossed his sleeping clothes back on to walk back into the room, but he doesn't waste time peeling them off. Just as his head turns toward me, I snap my eyes closed and practice the art of soft, but deep breathing.

Oddly enough, I hear him chuckle lightly before the sound of him opening the closest assures me its safe to peek again. He's now put on a pair of boxers, but he doesn't have a shirt on. At the angle in which I'm laying, however, I can't see anything but his side. He bends over to pick something off the ground and both his head and upper body disappear into the closet. I watch intently as the muscles on his back and side contort, taking on a mind of their own. Where the hell is Kyle working out? There's no way he looked like that when he left South Park. Just another thing he's changed since being here.

Not that I really mind that change. I twitch a bit as he straightens his body back up and stretches his arms over his head. He lets out a small grunt and then yawns before twisting his head in my direction. This time I'm a bit slower to shutting my eyes, but I think I'm still okay.

Dammit, this is cutting it too close. I need a better strategy. But as he moves about the room, and I hear him in various places, I pry my eyes back open to check the status of his appearance. This time he's sitting in front of me, directly facing me. He's still shirtless, but he's sat down in his desk chair and is flipping through a notebook I've seen him cart around before. As he turns another page, I take note of his calm demeanor—it's almost like he's watching me too. I see the sunlight glisten on his freshly showered bare skin, and I watch in awe as he takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling slowly.

That steady pattern is interrupted when his abs begin to constrict and I hear him make a muffled coughing noise. He brings his right hand over his mouth and coughs very quietly. I think he's trying not to 'wake' me, but it seems its doing him more harm than good. His body jerks violently as the spell gets worse until finally he lays that notebook to the side and stands up. Clad only in green boxers, he practically doubles over in a repressed cough before heading toward our mini-fridge to retrieve water.

It is when he turns away from me that I see it. His uncovered back. His noticeably taut deltoids frame what catches my eye next. In between his shoulder blades is the symbol I feared most.

Did I expect anything less? With how devoted to Miller and the HHS that Kyle is, did I really think his back would be the smooth unmarred back I remember from the earlier years?

Yes.

Beyond all hope of hopes, I had prayed, and wished that my best friend hadn't fallen quite so far. But there is no more denying what is right in front of me. I close my eyes, for real this time and feel something inside of me sink.

I no longer have a need to see his skin. Not that it matters, because from now on when I look at Kyle all I'll see is the detailed scabbed over and healed patch of skin. Where there should be nothing, there is now a pattern, the Vanderbilt coat of arms. It's forever embedded into him. I'll never be able to change that, but I'll be damned if I let them do anything more permanent, than that brand, to my best friend.

- **i**_**BB**_ and _**f **_**G**


	10. IX The Temptation

**AN:** Well…we told you it was coming, and come it has, full force too. But don't get comfortable it wont be here for long. It might seem like we went overboard and, (laughter) we might have. But don't doubt us when we say that what we wrote, all twenty pages of it was necessary for this plotline. We know what we're doing, we're SP slash writers after all. You may proceed.:)

**The Reformations of Kyle Broflovski **

**IX. **The Temptation

6 pm. The sun is just beginning to set, casting a burnt yellow hue onto the stony surfaces of the campus buildings. The stones shine brilliantly for only a moment before they are swallowed into the night's shadow. This process continues until even the tallest of buildings lies in shadow, and the sky beyond JV darkens for the evening.

I turn my attention to Kyle, who's been sitting on his bed for a remarkable three hours now. Once I got back from speech (which was intense and very uncomfortable), Calc, and lunch, Ky was right there where he still is. He looked up at me when I entered and smiled, but I couldn't bring myself to say anything to him. So we have sat pretty much in silence ever since.

I'm not sure if he noticed that I was awake earlier this morning, or if he knows that I saw what I saw. I'm not even sure he's still up for dinner, but I'm hesitant to ask if he is. If he is, and I ask him if he is, then he might not think I am. And I am. So I guess I'm just waiting around for him to speak up.

Clasping my hands together, I look back out the window again.

"I'm getting hungry," Kyle speaks up after I have once again lost myself in the beauty of the outside world. Is that his way of saying 'let's go'?

"And I could always eat," I respond back.

"Should we head to dinner?"

"I think I'd like a shower first, if you think you can wait?" I ask, already gathering my toiletries and change of clothes. For some reason I don't want to have to come back in here and change in front of Kyle. I've never had a problem before, but…

"Sure, take your time," he turns back to what he was doing before and I leave the room.

Like Kyle has said before, I'm not exactly a modest guy. I don't necessarily flaunt what I have, but I'm not timid either. If I have to change in front of a group of guys, I will. Years of sports and locker rooms have gotten me past any sort of reservations about displays of nudity, so it's weird that I'm actually seeking out one of the private showers. There are two in the entire bathroom that actually have curtains, and they're usually unoccupied.

I quickly grab one without making any eye contact with any of the other guys and head into my shower. I know none of these guys have that coat of arms carved in their backs. I know this because I've showered with the same group since the day I've gotten here. Even so, I'm not looking forward to seeing anyone's back for a while. And as I wash my hair real quick I realize that Kyle and I never showered together at the same time. Never.

We've always conveniently showered one at a time. One would stay in the room while the other did his thing. It's never been different and I never thought to question it. Based on how secretive the HHS is about that mark, and no questions as to why, I'll bet they all take private showers. As I rinse off the body wash, something else occurs to me.

I've never seen Austin shower either. It's been the same case with him as it's been with Kyle…

Shaking my head, I quickly turn off the water and begin drying myself off. Now I'm being paranoid. Austin is not in the HHS. He hates them more than I do. Kyle and Miller both don't like him. There's no way I can continue on in this school if I suspect everyone. They'll be questions if I start to seek out seeing every guy's naked back just be sure they're not an HHS member.

I wonder what it'll be like to have dinner, alone, with Kyle. Not that I haven't done so before, but now it's different. Because now I know what he's all about, and now I have to get him back from what he thinks he's going to devote his life to. But how? That's been nagging me all day, even through my classes. How to get Kyle back, how to erase all the crap that damn cult has pressed into his brain.

Its not going to be easy, that much I can tell. I mean, Christ, he's got this symbol engraved into his body to remind him of where his loyalties lie! I'd say he's pretty into it. I still can't get over it though. Why, and how, could Kyle do this so soon? Jason's a year older than Ky and seems to have been in it longer…why did Kyle get the special treatment? Was it because he wanted to? Or is it because of Miller.

Miller. I'm going to have to hold my tongue tonight with him, because every time I even think of his name, my skin crawls with some kind of unexplainable itch. And., for whatever its worth, I want to show Kyle that I AM capable of going through a night without dissing his beloved captain. After all, I want Kyle to believe I am trying to understand, even though I never will. And by staying away from the topic of Miller, or any other HHS member for that matter, he may think I'm mature enough to accept his other 'friendships'. I've got to at least _try_ to play nice. I have to win back Kyle.

I don't feel clean.

Turning the water back on, I scrub my body down, trying desperately to rinse any lingering residue from the night before. I close my eyes and stand under the showerhead, feeling as the water flows from my head all the way down to my toes before sinking into the drain. Standing quietly, I know I've cleansed all the dirt from my body. Even so, I've never felt so dirty in my life. Those images are forever imprinted in my mind, the smells forever a part of my nose. The only way I'm going to be able to get rid of them is when I have Kyle by my side once again.

Deciding that it's best not to scour myself raw, I finally turn off the water. I'm as clean as I'm going to get with day-to-day washing. Though I have a feeling I'll be taking more showers than I used to. I quickly change in a nearby stall and head back to the room. While I'm a little apprehensive about having dinner with Kyle, I can't help but be just as excited.

It's been too long really, and maybe this will give me the chance I need to talk with him. Maybe we can call a stalemate or something. I snort as I open the bedroom door. That's probably a little too optimistic, but one can only hope. Kyle's still on his bed lying down, but this time it looks like he's reading a book. A fiction book at that.

"What're you reading?" I ask curiously. I haven't seen him read a book for fun; didn't think he had the word fun in him anymore.

"A mystery," he says and closes his book, tossing it on the end of his bed. He looks over at me and I watch his eyes widen slightly before lazing. "What happened to you?"

"Huh?" I look down at myself and feel my face flush red. "Oh, erm, too much hot water I guess," I lie and unload my bundle on my chair. My bare arms are redder than normal, probably because of my intense rubbing. I'm surprised he noticed. "You ready to head to dinner?"

Kyle eyes me as he sits up. I watch as his eyes roam over me, making me really uncomfortable. Do I look that messed up? I run a hand through my damp hair and shift my legs. "Ready?" I repeat again.

He meets my eyes and smiles, "yeah." Swinging his legs over the bed, he stands up to stretch briefly. "Isn't that one of your nicer shirts?" He questions, peering at it closely.

"Could be," I reply obliviously. To be honest, I don't keep track of these things. I just pulled off the first shirt I knew that I'd look good in and went with it. I take the time to absorb Kyle's appearance a bit more. He's not wearing what he was before I left the room. Instead of exercise shorts, he's wearing a pair of dressed-down khakis and a brown T-shirt. I wouldn't think the brown would look good with his red hair and pale skin but…it looks good. And it's a nice style, hugging his chest to show his conditioned pecs. It's a good shirt.

He bites his lip and looks away from me just as I feel my face growing hotter. "Yeah, I'm ready," he tells me again, and I dig out my student ID from my other jean's back pocket.

Looking around the room to make sure I have everything—what do I need? We're only going to dinner—and clap my hands together and say, "lets go."

I follow Kyle out the door and stand beside him as he locks it with the key on his key chain. He has several keys on it and I'm not sure what each of them are for, but I don't think now is the time for interrogations. So far, so good. We're barely speaking, but we certainly aren't fighting. This is a step in the right direction.

"I hope they're having Italian," he muses, and I smile. Austin wanted Italian the day we went to visit Kenny. The difference this time is I'm not even going to make the suggestion of going somewhere else to Kyle. This is _our_ time together. I'm not sharing him with Kenny.

I want to ask him so many questions. I want to ask why he asked me out tonight. Why he picked _tonight_. Why he asked me to dinner and not to lunch. Why he is acting so nice to me. I want to ask why he's not backing away from me, or yelling at me, or being as unpredictable as he has been for the entire time I've been here. Why is HE being so nice to ME? There has to be some kind of ulterior motive. He wouldn't just…realize I'm his best friend again, would he? Did I FINALLY get through to him?

"I'm really glad you said yes, Stan," he mumbles as we head to the mess hall. "I think this is exactly what we need."

I nod in agreement, not having anything to add. When we enter the cafeteria, I feel a jolt of lightening rising through my spine. Once I've glanced around and grabbed my tray, I see why. In their usual spot, talking together with that air of superiority they tend to give off, is the HHS. They're eyeing Kyle and me closely, and when I glance at him I see that he's paying them no mind. Instead, he's already grabbed his own tray and is heading toward one of the buffet lines.

Catching up, I blindly grab the first dish my hands get a hold of. I'd forgotten about them, well not them exactly, just their presence. That they would be here, watching us.

How are they okay with this? How is _Miller_ okay with this?

Peeking a look over, I see the blonde president has his eyes right on me. He doesn't look very happy. I've given him a smug look before I even know it. When he glares at me and turns to say something to one of his lackey's, I turn my attention my to my food.

"Hey Kyle?" I mutter as I scoop a helping of pasta on my plate.

"Hm?" He questions wordlessly as he looks over his options.

"Are you sure this is okay?"

"We don't have to have Italian," he says. "There's American, Russian, and Portuguese tonight."

"I don't mean the food. I mean them," I gesture my head in the direction of the HHS members. Kyle glances over at them, understanding coming in his eyes.

"Just for tonight," he looks at me closely with a soft smile. "Fuck them."

If I had food in my mouth it'd be projected all over his face. Did he say to fuck the HHS?

He senses my shock, because he laughs heartily and places an arm around my shoulder. "Don't worry about them, Stan. You are MY friend, and it's high time I show them that I'm not going to let you go. You and I…" he begins, pausing as he finally decides on some kind of Russian stuffed chicken dish and scoops out the chicken onto his plate.

I look at him expectantly. I HATE it when people trail off in the middle of important sentences.

He pushes his way onward and piles up some potatoes beside his chicken and looks back at me. "This smells so good. Are you ready, Stan?"

Realizing that I've been staring at him instead of filling my own plate, I stutter a bit before spooning out some random dish. I do the same with another item until my plate is sufficiently full. Catching up with Kyle, he peers at me with wide, shining eyes. As I fish through my back pocket, I retrieve my ID to pay for my meal. But, just as soon as I pull it out, Kyle halts me with a strong forearm.

"I've got it tonight," he announces, pulling out his ID.

Okay…I might be fine with this if I was low on cash and needed someone to spot me. But its clear I've got the meal plan to pay for it and I'm not entirely sure I understand his 'grand gesture'. "I've got a plan, Ky. This money will go to waste if I don't use it…"

"Then use it in the commons. Buy yourself some…snacks for the room."

"…" I open my mouth but say nothing as he nods and turns back to the register, handing the cashier his ID. He tells the guy to put the rest on his overflow account, and the guy eyes us really suspiciously. I feel like doing the same. What is he trying to accomplish?

We spy around for a couple of seats when Kyle finds one and nods in its direction. Nodding in agreement, I start to walk side by side with him heading for it when my eye catches a head of brown hair.

"Austin," I call out without thinking. I stop walking and he turns toward me, a look of surprise on his face that quickly falls once he sees its me. He glances at my company and frowns before wearily approaching me.

"Hey Stan" he says dully, his eyes darting constantly to Kyle who's only a few steps ahead of me. Kyle's staring at him blankly, but at least he's not saying anything rude…yet. "Kyle," he adds almost politely. Almost. Kyle, on the other hand, only scoffs and walks off heading for our table.

Better nothing than something. I shrug with a sigh and turn my attention back to the only other friend I've made in this school. "Sorry about him," I say almost sheepishly.

"I didn't expect much," Austin responds. "So," he starts, eyebrows rising. "He's why I didn't see you earlier. Don't expect we'll be sharing our usual dinner together?"

"Meant to tell you earlier, but I've been…out of sorts lately," I explain, thinking of the previous night and of earlier this morning.

"I've noticed. How did he take your excuse for staying with me last night?"

"Thought it was complete bullshit," I laugh and he joins me. "But so far he hasn't questioned me more about it."

"There's something else we differ in," Austin says pointedly and I frown.

"I'll tell you eventually, but now really isn't the time, especially not with them boring holes into my back," I say, knowing he'll know I meant the HHS. Speaking of which, looking over Austin's shoulder, I see Kyle stabbing his food with an aggression that obviously says he's not thinking about the food. "I'd better go."

"I suppose you'd better," he says turning and looking over at Kyle. I watch as their eyes meet and as a mutual flash of hate blazes across both their eyes.

"Talk to you later?" I ask hopefully, but not really wanting to make a date for that time to occur.

"Sure. See you around, Stan," he replies, almost sounding defeated, though I'm not sure why. I nod to him and speed walk to the table Kyle has chosen for our date. I mean our dinner. Our…hangout.

"What was that all about?" he asks me inquisitively. I don't think he really wants to know, nor do I want to talk about Austin right now. I don't feel like getting into it when we're trying to be civil to one another.

"Sorry about him," I apologize, though I'm not really sure why I'm saying sorry. Or why I'm apologizing about Austin, of all people. He's the guy who's going to bring me through this, and he just might be able to help me rid Kyle of this disastrous cult. I'm not quite sure how yet, but he DID manage to convince Kenny, and Ken is no pushover.

Neither am I.

"Have a seat, Stan," Kyle instructs, and I do so. Directly across from him, I lift my legs over the bench and situate myself. I pull away my utensils from my napkin, divide my food into sections, and put a straw in my lemonade. When I look up from my preparation, I realize Kyle has been watching me this whole time. It makes me a bit uncomfortable when he doesn't even pretend to hide this fact.

"What?"

He smiles and shrugs. "Have you always been this meticulous?"

I pause chopping this salad-ish stuff I got to look at him. "What do you mean?"

"Your methods are quite intriguing, Stan. I find them rather humorous," he explains, and I wonder, once again, who the hell talks like that? I'm sick of him talking like this, and if we're going to get through a night of being together, he's going to have to stop acting like such a stuffy snob.

I drop my fork and glare at him. "Ky, stop with the preppy kid dialogue. I want to hear _you_. Just you." As I say this, a part of that sparkle in his eyes seems to fade, and I fear the worst.

"This is me now," he says, repeating something similar to what I heard him say weeks ago.

"If it's you," I start and inhale a long sip of my drink, "then who the hell was I speaking with the first few days I came here? Your counterpart, some pretend you? Were you faking it then?"

Kyle starts to separate some of the food on his plate before he answers, "I wanted you to feel comfortable." He says this as his way of answering me.

"So you were faking it?"

"What would you do if you were in my position? I knew I had changed somewhat, and I knew you wouldn't exactly greet me with open arms if I bombarded you with the change. You like things to stay the same Stan, and I'm not like you."

He sounds testy and I decide it's best to drop the subject before we start arguing. It's incredible how easy it is for us to turn any sort of conversation into a huge ass disagreement. So instead of biting back a response about me being fine with change, I bite my tongue and stuff a…well I'm not sure what it is but it looks like a piece of meat, into my mouth.

As we eat silently, I try to think of something to talk about. This dinner is only becoming more awkward, like it really is some sort of first date. Unfortunately not the nice kind of awkward where you both like each other and just cant think of what to say. Rather, it's the sort where all you want is for your friend to call you on your cell and bail you out with some sort of fake emergency.

"How've you been?" He suddenly asks, and, because he broke the silence, I almost knock over my glass.

He looks somewhat amused at my slip, but doesn't comment on it. "Good, you know…good." Christ! I can't even talk normally with him. What kind of response was that?!

"Good, that's all?" He questions. "That's the kind of answer you give your mother when she asks how school went."

"Yeah," I let out a laugh, and even to me it sounds uncomfortable and slightly forced.

Kyle sighs and drops his utensils.

"What?" I question, eyeing his movements.

"Stan we're fucking best friends, and we're acting like two thirteen year olds on a first date!"

I mirror his actions with a sigh of my own. "You're right," I concur. "But how are we _supposed_ to act? This hasn't exactly been our brightest days here, Kyle." I have the sudden urge to confess how much I miss him and how I wish I could see him smile his Kyle smile one more time…but that would be treading across already shallow waters, and I don't intend to make this any more awkward than it already is.

"That's my fault, mostly," he responds, and I drop the substance on my fork. "I'm not entirely sure how to make up for that either. I've been foolish, Stan."

"Y-you have?" I ask, opting for a much quieter and less harmful approach to his sudden confession.

He nods, flashing an ever-so-slight-but-noticeable-to-me glance in the direction of Miller and the rest of the clones. "You came here for me," he says as if he's trying to convince me of it. "And I haven't been adapting to your presence well. I haven't really been adapting…at all. I should be grateful. Any of those guys would be so lucky to have someone like you."

My fingers are completely numb, and I feel this strange, unexplainable tingling in my stomach from his heartfelt words. Can a leopard really change its spots? Cause Kyle's finally seeming to get a clue. Maybe I've underestimated him. Maybe he's had an epiphany. Maybe…maybe he's realizing what's more important in life!

"Kyle"- I begin, suddenly feeling the need to apologize myself. For being doubtful of his friendship and believing he wanted nothing to do with me.

"I'm not going to be dormant any longer, Stan. You're the best I have, and I refuse to lose that."

I purse my lips and feel immediate pangs of sympathy for my best friend, the guy in front of me. He's trying. He's trying so hard to be who I know he is. I guess I can help him out by not being such a dickwad myself. He's practically pouring his heart and soul into this simple dinner—something I would've never thought the new Kyle would do in a million years—and I'm too dumbfounded to provide a response. Start talking, Stan!

I force a chuckle. "Man, you sure don't beat around the bush, do you," I joke. I look into his eyes and see that he's not in the mood for jokes.

"I refuse to let this go on the way it has been," he states clearly. Man, now I feel like the immature one.

"Then what do you suggest? And be fair about it," I rush the last part. Just so he knows that no matter what we decide, I won't drop the other friend I have here.

"I will be and-" He hesitates, and I notice he's gripped his fork pretty firmly. "I'm starting to realize that the only way we can both be happy is to keep the friends we've already made."

"Uh huh…" I say slowly, edging him on.

"And as much as it pains me to say," with this his grip tightens even more on that poor fork. "The best thing for me to do would be to…tolerate," he almost cringes at the word, "your friend."

"You mean Austin?" I asked more than surprised.

"I did say your friend," he mutters.

"But he has a name," I point out.

"Austin," he stresses it out.

"You've decided to accept my friendship with him?" I'm in awe as I try to swallow this information.

"Please don't put words in my mouth," he grumbles.

At first I'm a little confused on what words he's talking about but then it comes to me. He said tolerate, not accept. Still…I can tell how difficult that was for him. Grinning slightly and shaking my head, I reach over and yank out the fork from Kyle's hand. That seems to snap him out of his quiet seething.

"If you keep that up, you'll bend metal, and then I might really run for the hills."

He looks none too pleased.

"Ky, please," I almost beg. "Relax, even if it's just around me. Joke, make fun of someone, anyone—except Austin," I add in when he opens his mouth. "If you relax I'll give you your fork back," I tease dangling it in front of his face.

"I can eat with my fingers," he mumbles like a child, looking down on his food pitifully. And like that, his maturity is gone. But I know that he is attempting to lighten up, so I wait in anticipation to see if he goes one further and actually TRIES to eat with his fingers.

"You won't though," I contest. His eyes rove back up to my face, and I see that mischievous spark in them. I smile, holding the fork just out of his reach and shaking it.

"If this is your idea of relaxing, I'm not feeling it. Give me my damn fork back, Stan," he whines in his stuffy voice.

I decide its much better to secure it in my fist and lean over on my elbow. "You know, I WOULD like to see you eat that stuffed chicken with your fingers. All that juice popping out, messing up your hands all nice and greasyish…"

"Greasyish isn't a word," he huffs.

I ignore his correction and instead grab my own fork with my free hand. "Mmmm, food sure is good when it's on the proper utensil," I tease even more. I know how much Kyle hates it when people eat like pigs. He values proper etiquette more than anyone I know. With my own steel prod, I jab the meaty substance and lift it to my mouth, all the while grinning widely.

He sighs and drops his shoulders. "Now you're just hitting me where it hurts."

My grin extends. "Smile, Kyle. RELA-"

My stunt is halted as he seizes that exact opportunity to reach over and steal my own fork out of my hand, promptly yanking it back onto his side of the table and eating the pre-cut piece of meat. He smiles a toothy grin as he chews MY food before taking a big swig of MY drink. I lean back and drop his fork onto the table.

"You have your own plate of food," I remind him crossly. He knows if there's one thing I hate, it's when people take MY food. I don't mind sharing, I'm not a pig like Cartman was, but I refuse to just sit and watch as someone steals it from me. Especially when I was just about to enjoy it myself.

"I know, but food is so much sweeter when it isn't mine," he smiles evilly, and I sneer back.

"My fork please," I say to him holding my hand out. I know I have his, but it's not the same. Besides, it's the principle of the matter.

Like the gracious bastard I know he can be, he hands it over without much fuss. Its not about the fork with him, it's about my food, and as I retain my fork I make sure to drag my plate closer to myself.

"And mine," he says looking at it. He could easily grab it himself, but like me…it's the principle that counts.

"Oh right, of course," I say politely and pick his up, wincing as it drops to the floor. "Shit, sorry," I say to him. "Guess you'll have to get another one."

Kyle looks completely appalled, and while it was obviously no accident, I have to force back a laugh from the look on his face.

"Or you could get your ass up and get one for me!" He almost snarls and I'm completely unsure if its for real, or if its part of his act.

"Too much trouble on my part," I shrug and dig further into my meal. "Damn this green stuff is good," I say once I've chewed and swallowed a few bites. "Want to try some?" I ask looking up at him. He's been watching me silently, thinking God knows what. His eyes shift to his fork on the dirty cafeteria floor before he looks back at me.

"Wish I could," he says annoyed. "But my utensil seems to have been accidentally dropped if you remember."

"Right, right," I nod. Gathering a bit of my green whatever-it-is, I hold it up mid air. He glances at me curiously and I nod my head toward him. "Well, try a bite."

He narrows his eyes and slowly reaches out to grab my fork before I retract my hand. "I don't think so, I think I'll keep my hands on it. You just eat," I smirk, waiting for him to blow up.

There's no chance he'll actually eat while I hold the food up. It'd almost be like I'm feed—my mouth drops open as he leans over the table, keeping his eye contact with me and closes his mouth over my fork. I watch his eyes gleam with delight as he relishes in _my_ food, chewing every bite slowly and thoroughly. When he's finished, he swallows extra loud and leans back to his side. He fails to look away or even blink.

My fork stays midair for several seconds afterwards, if only because I can't find the right brain commands to move my arm muscles. That stare…its eerie and yet oddly enchanting. The pupils in his eyes have dilated so that the black practically covers up the stunning green. I can't look away either. I can't even take another bite.

His smile eventually fades away until he is left with a somber expression. One that is still staring directly at me. Unmoving. I feel like something inside of him broke.

"Kyle?" I ask hoarsely.

I watch as his eyes travel from my own, down my face, down my chest, around my arms and shoulders, and back to my face again. It's a very slow moving process and one that I can trace his every move. Eventually, his smile reappears and his pupils shrink back down. "I'm going to get my own fork." And like that, he picks himself up and heads directly for the cafeteria line. It surprises me when he doesn't even take the slightest of detours to slide past his fellow HHS members. My gaze lands in that direction, and it's met up with Miller looking right back at me. He's seemed to separate himself from the group while they commence in useless chatter. He's isolated himself into a sound proof bubble—one that isn't affected by its surroundings. Except for Kyle.

I look away just as his eye twitches and he sends me the most threatening look if looks could ever be threatening. It sends those shivers down my spine, and I'm all too eager when Kyle plops right back down and begins digging in where he left off.

I feel really on edge now. "Ky, I think we should-"

"Touch my fork again, and there'll be consequences, Stan," he warns me. But it's in a way that I can't quite tell if he's advising me, or if he's challenging me.

"I…" I look down at his hand and frown. "O…kay…"

"Now, what were you saying?"

"I think we should…" FINISH THE SENTENCE, Stan. What am I really trying to say anyway? I have no idea. "…we should get dessert."

"Well, SOME of us might not be finished with our entrée," he tells me in a lighter voice again. I breathe a sigh of relief. Sometimes I think I'm just imagining this crap up.

"Who's fault is that?" I ask, playing innocent. He glares at me before he pulls a piece of his chicken into his mouth and chews it harshly. I allow him to eat the rest of his main course in peace. I'm not really all that hungry for it anymore.

"No longer have an appetite?" he asks once he's halfway through his meal and once I've resigned mine to being unfinished. I don't have that much to finish anyway, but he's still Kyle in there somewhere and knows it's unlike me.

"Not really," I answer.

He finishes his meal without another sound, and when he's done he leans back in his chair to stare at me. "If you're not hungry anymore should we forego dessert?"

"Well, it's not the damn apocalypse," I mutter.

I hear the sound of someone chuckle, but when I look up from my plate, Kyle is stone faced. I stand up. "What do you want, I can grab it for you."

"Ice cream would be nice," he says at once.

"Anything on it?"

"Plain is fine."

Plain. Plain…Kyle used to love ice cream with everything imaginable on it. Fudge, whipped cream, nuts, candies, cherries—I almost laugh at the thought. He always wanted a mountain of cherries, and never could understand the meaning of a 'cherry on top'.

"Sure," I reply slightly dejected. "I'll get you your…plain ice cream."

"Thank you," he says. Without another word, I head for the dessert line. How can one date—dinner—go to hell like ours is? Things were practically back to normal. We were joking, having fun, or at least I was, and then suddenly he just…it's like he remembered his decorum and who he's supposed to be now, as opposed to who he was.

Well I'm not giving up and I'm _not_ going to let this deter me from what I mean to do.

I grab our bowls of ice cream, Kyle's as plain as he wants it, and mine piled high with everything I know he still loves. Sticking the spoons in the bowls, I head back over to our table, seeing Kyle sitting there silently. From here he looks so…calm. Reserved, like he doesn't have a care in the world, and that if he does its nothing to be concerned over.

Placing his bowl in front of him, he blinks, as if he'd forgotten to do so earlier and accepts it with a quiet thanks. I slide back into my seat across from him and settle my own bowl on the table. He glances at it and I can almost see his eyes light up, but he looks away quickly and starts to dig in on his own ice cream. I watch as he swishes his spoon back and forth in the boring bowl that contains only one of the ingredients his heart secretly desires. Now I may be naïve, but there is no way in hell the HHS is controlling what its members eat. Why is Kyle restraining himself?

Opting to think about this silently over an extremely loaded bite seems enticing, so I pick up my own spoon and plow it right into the heart of the goodies. What results is the world's biggest bite, impossible to fit into my mouth. I bring it up there anyway and slurp it halfway off my spoon. Kyle watches in awe with a slightly dropped jaw as I eagerly attack the remaining ice cream.

"Taste good?" he asks, trying desperately to make conversation when I know all he wants to do is tear across this table and pry the ice cream from my death grip. I smile at the thought of torturing him; mentally telling myself it's his own damn fault for being such a square. It's freaking ICE CREAM!

"Mmmm-hmmm," I murmur with another bite in my mouth. "Heavenly." I drop my elbow on the table and flip the spoon over to lick the scoop part out slowly with my tongue. I glance over to Kyle, who's practically salivating at the contents I just dumped inside my mouth. "You know Ky, I think you may've been onto something with this bucket of cherries on top. It makes it kind of like a cherry cobbler. With sprinkles and lots of whipped cream."

He inwardly groans, but I can tell he did it because his stomach constricts. Okay, so this may not be the most grown-up way to connect with my best friend, but food seemed to work before. And we've always bonded over meals for some reason. Maybe cause I eat so much. And because he likes to make fun of that. This time the tables are turned.

But I'm done torturing. I fear he may bust a gut from suppressing another grunt, and then I'd have a lot of clean up. "Kyle…" I begin with an inviting voice.

He sighs and takes a bite, looking like he's going to hurl the ordinary flavor out onto the floor. "Yeah?"

"I'm really NOT that hungry. You want the rest?" I push the dish closer to his side and lick my spoon one last time, twirling it in my mouth and pulling it out gradually. He stares at me blankly for what seems like forever before I raise my eyebrows and add, "Well?"

"…If you don't want it…" is his excuse. I shake my head and he accepts my offer lethargically, as though he was shot with a tranquilizer gun. We break eye contact only for him to scarf down the remaining three-fourths.

I watch in amazement. It's like he didn't even breathe. "Have you been restraining yourself from ICE CREAM?" I ask in wonderment.

He seems to have realized his overreaction and wipes the corner of his mouth, like he didn't just resort to eating like a starved man. "It's best not to give into meaningless temptations all the time," he mutters.

Folding my arms I frown at him, knowing that's HHS talk right there. I want to say something about it, but I don't. Tonight is not about them. It's about us. "Uh huh," I say instead. "Well if you're done…?" I wave my hand at his personal mostly uneaten bowl of plain vanilla ice cream.

Kyle eyes the bowl, and I can almost see him have an inner battle with himself. Seems the old Kyle is winning because he pushes the bowl toward me expectantly.

"If you could maybe…get me a few toppings?"

I smirk, pick up the bowl, and do just that. I make sure to ignore the HHS members who are giving me looks. I wonder what they're thinking, and at the same time I hope I'm not getting Kyle into any major trouble. But this can hardly be seen as rebellion. It's dessert for Christ's sake, and he needs some. When I return and slide the bowl back over to Kyle, he inhales it the way he did before, only slowing down for the last few bites. I can tell this is going to be the last time he's going to indulge his taste buds for a while.

"We can leave now," he states, standing before I do.

"Sure," I agree and he gathers up the trays, bowls, and trash to deposit them in their proper place. When he heads back over to me, I notice his fork from earlier still on the ground.

"Almost forgot this," I mutter and bend down to pick it up. When I erect back to my own height, I about step back in surprise at noticing how close to my body Kyle is.

"Leave the damn fork," he growls out.

"Uh, okay," I mutter and slide it on the table, noticing he isn't backing up. "Let's go?" I pose it as a question and he nods, though he doesn't move. "'Kay," I whisper and move myself away from him. As I lead the way out, I almost miss the looks of the people around us. Its then I realize that what Kyle and I did all throughout dinner must have looked…well I'm sure it didn't look like something ordinary friends do.

Then again, we're not ordinary, not by a long shot.

The last thing I feel as we exit the hall is Miller's eyes glaring daggers at me. Whether he knows something I don't, or he's just pissed that Kyle didn't say hi to him, I don't know. But I fall further and further behind as I slow down to shake that feeling off. Kyle has long since passed me and is stepping out into the cool February air.

"Where to now?" I ask him, catching up a few seconds later.

His breaths make powerful puffs of translucent white into the cold night, and he looks down at me with impatience. "Our room," he replies simply and almost forcefully. I silently agree and together, we make the short trip from the mess hall to Windermere. In the process, I remember he had left my meal plan money for me to buy snacks in the commons area…but he's walking like he has an agenda in mind. I can't break that.

As we reach the front entrance to our dorm, he opens the door so I can go before him. I am hesitant as to what he's doing at first, but then he gestures for me to enter and he follows me close behind. Very close behind. We approach the stairs rather quickly, and I feel rushed to get up them. I don't get it—does he not want to be seen with me anymore? Did he realize we made a spectacle at dinner? Its only nearing 8:00…there's no way he can be tired. Then again, he DID eat a lot of ice cream. Maybe it's having an adverse effect on him…

I'm waiting for him to yell, "HURRY" any time now, but he says nothing. He merely breathes down my back as we ascend our three flights of stairs, exit the stairwell, and head straight for the room.

Upon nearing the door, I fidget with my key, too nervous to even jam the thing into its home. I turn to see Kyle looking down at me, his arm propped up to the side of the door. The back of his hand is resting on his cheek, and he's giving me the strangest of looks. He almost looks hungry again. What is going on? Is he on drugs or something?

I finally calm myself long enough to insert the key and turn the knob, to which Kyle pushes the door open and, again, allows me to enter first. I take a few steps in and hear the door close. I spin around to see him standing by it, locking it. He begins to walk in front of me before whisking back around to greet me, face-to-face.

"Well, the night's still young," I croak out, noting how close he is again. "What do you feel like doing?"

"Think you're a ball of a laughs, don't you Stan?" He asks back, advancing toward me. I continue my path, walking backwards until I hit the closet door.

"W-what do you mean?" I question nervously. Nothing in his demeanor makes me think he found anything I've done as of late funny.

"Don't play innocent, not now."

I'm playing innocent?! What the hell is he rambling about?! I wince slightly as he grabs a hold of my waist with one of his hands. His other brushes my cheek and I'm reminded all too much of this exact motion of his hand. I close my eyes and swallow, trying to slow down my breathing. But it's hard when I feel the breath of his voice cascading in my ear, whispering something in such a slow, daunting voice.

"The fork," he starts out softly. "Feeding me, and the ice cream? I didn't know you had it in you Stan, teasing me like that, licking that spoon like it'd be your last."

My mind is in a fog. What's he talking about, licking the spoon…? I always do that! It had nothing to do with teasing him. My hands grope pointlessly for something to grab onto, finding Kyle's t-shirt as my only option given the smooth wooden doors behind me.

I bite my lip and—shit, was that me who let out that moan, or him? And, what the hell is coming over me anyway?! I ought to be fighting him off! Questioning him about his motive, what he wants from me and—oh God, he's nuzzling my ear and neck.

"K-Kyle," I stutter out, trying to find my fucking senses.

"Do us both a favor," he murmurs and I let out a gasp as his lips nip my neck. "And shut up," he finishes.

He drops my cheek and presses his hand against the door behind me. My jaw has no choice but to clamp shut. I'm growing pretty weary in protests anyway. Besides, if my body has anything to say about it, then I'm following directions. I close my eyes as I feel Kyle's soft but aggressive tugs at my neck grow deeper and closer to my jaw line. He presses me into the closet, and I feel myself sink into it as he melts into me. His other hand, which was once roaming my waist, is traveling up to meet his lips on my cheek. I breathe in spurts as he brings his nose to mine.

Okay, focus. Kyle is not who you think he is. He's not the one you want to be with right now. He's not even in the same body as you remember him.

Then why is he making you desire this more than anything else in your entire life?

I savor the warmth of his hand, now wrapped around half of my neck, and sigh helplessly as I feel his soft and succulent lips graze my own. I feel my entire body quiver with uncontrollable nerves as I fail to pull away. He pushes against me harder, both lips and body, and his hand dips in to stroke my hair. My internal temperature is skyrocketing, my legs are working like Jell-O, and my blood flow is increasing into every organ in my body.

This can't be happening! I can't be…he can't…

Finding the strength inside me that was temporarily blind sighted, I push him off and regain consciousness.

His expression ranges from irritation to understanding, and I'm not really sure where to begin. I open my mouth, but he silences it with his index finger. "You told me to relax," he whispers.

"Yeah…?" I squeak.

"I'm relaxing, Stan. I'm doing what I should've done a long time ago. Before you even came here to be with me."

"Oh?" I manage out. I don't think I can say more than one word at a time. My body's taking over my mind, and its hard to even focus on what Kyle has to say. But I don't want to become some…thing that's completely overtaken by a little petting and some, some…incredible feeling passed onto me from those lips of his that just keep talking.

"It's been really hard on me, you know," he continues. "With you here. But I didn't want to scare you away, that's the last thing I want to do."

He reaches out for me and I eye his hand wearily, allowing it to land on my chest. At his touch, I can already feel my head starting to swoon and cloud over. He runs his hand to the right, letting it curve with the contours of my side. His hand pauses once it's reached my lower shoulder blade.

"It's been hard," he repeats keeping his eyes pinned on me. "Stan?"

"Hm?" I open my eyes sharply, once I've realized they'd started to flutter.

"This is okay, right?"

Is that hesitance I hear in his voice? After all of this? This is my chance, to really push him away and demand he get a hold of himself, and then we can…then we can what? Blame it on the ice cream, the utensils? Neither of us is remotely intoxicated, we're both doing this of our free will. I'M doing this of my free will…I think. It's getting rather hard to think again.

The fact that he asked…I can hear him in there, my Kyle. My best friend, the person I came here for, the person who I…

"It's fine," I mutter out.

"You sure?" He asks and I feel as his other arm wraps around me, his grip tightening around me, trapping me.

"Hnn," is all I can coherently say. It seems to be more than enough for him because I find his arms working their way down to my waist. His fingers graze under my shirt and I let out a wordless gasp as they caress my stomach. He pulls me closer so that our bodies are resting against each other again. Hanging my head over his shoulder, I'm more than content to let him do the work for the moment, as he clearly knows exactly what he's doing. I've never had to do this before, not with another guy. And while I can't imagine it's that much different from a girl, I am slightly apprehensive about taking any lead.

I find my shirt being lifted slowly, and as he does so, he continues to ghost his hands over my stomach, then chest, and finally my shoulders, until my shirt is clear off my torso, easily discarded from my arms. It's difficult to even be concerned about my t-shirt when he's keeping me occupied with those hands of his. He explores every inch of my freshly exposed skin with his fingertips, seizing an opportunity to kiss me and gently open his mouth. Every movement I make now is beyond my control—part of my subconscious. Something I can't bring myself to stop. I echo his aggression and open my own mouth, feeling my stomach tighten itself up into a compressed ball. He stops grazing my skin with his right hand and brings it up to grab onto my neck again. His tongue plunges into my mouth and he smashes himself onto me, clawing at my bare skin.

I…give up.

As he pushes his body into mine, until I can feel every inch of his arousal, I reach my hands up and wrap my arms around his neck in a needy hug. This causes me to lift an inch or so off the ground, and he steadies us onto the wall with his strong forearms. Without reservations, I bring my knees up and wrap my legs around his torso. I feel myself slipping, but he grabs a hold of me and we make our way to his bed as one being, never breaking our lip lock. During the move, he attempts to turn us around so that when we reach our destination, he bends down and I fall to the bed. He climbs on top of me and drops his legs between mine.

I scramble up to the head of the bed and bend my knees, all too eager to get that shirt off of him. I've seen what's underneath and it makes me stiff just thinking about it. I grab the sides and pull them up, watching as Kyle raises his arms and assists me by tugging on the back and sliding it over his head. He grabs the shirt and balls it up in his hands, his muscles flexing, and throws it on the floor. I sink down into the bed, not able to peel my eyes away from the beauty kneeling before me. Next, he straddles me, only this time; I know how this is going to end.

I lift my hands and secure them onto his sides, bringing him down with me. We meet up at the lips, and I hungrily attack. My hands dart about, absorbing every crevice, every ripple, every bare area. He tastes just about as good as that ice cream ever could, and I've never felt so turned on in my life. My thoughts turn to mush as my hands roam his back freely, pawing and gripping at every muscle contraction. They pause their exploration when I suddenly feel something unnatural in between his shoulder blades.

Oh shit. I had completely forgotten. My hand skims the surface, which is rough to the touch. I suck at his bottom lip and try to concentrate on how our bodies ignite one another, but I can't get the tattoo out of my mind. It turns my stomach just thinking about it and yet…it's resting between two of the best deltoids I've ever seen a guy have. I ignore the red flag in my brain and continue kissing Kyle.

While I break away for a bit of air, Kyle continues his ministrations on my chin, easily working his way down my throat, attacking it as if it did something personal to offend him. I loll my head to the side to allow him better access.

"Mhm, so perfect," he mutters.

I grab his head with a free hand and guide it to a spot I've always been a little more sensitive at.

"I knew you would be, I knew my Stan'd be perfect."

If I was less drunk on his physical attentions I might be more affected by what he's saying. I'm hearing it, but I'm already a puddle of nothing. There's nothing he could say at this point that would want me to let him take his mind away from what he's doing to me.

As my other hand continues to explore his back, it finds his only scar. I run my hand over it lightly, feeling it out, almost trying to memorize the indent it's made on him. Doing so seems to excite Kyle even more, if that's possible. He breaks away from my neck and moves to my collarbone. I let out a light whimper when he licks it gently, before descending his mouth back over it.

Maybe it's the change in where he's doing this, but I think it has more to do with his crest than anything. Either way I find myself becoming strangely more aroused as I continue to tickle it slightly and brush my fingers over it. It disgusts me, but at the same time it turns me on to feel this imperfect patch on Kyle's otherwise flawless back.

"We're going to be together forever, didn't I tell you Stan?" Kyle whispers again and I oddly find myself agreeing to the strange tone in his voice, though I don't say anything. "Nothing's going to separate us."

"Nothing," I agree.

"Not even death."

"Not eve – "

Woah! I couldn't be sobered up faster than if Kyle's mother walked into the room this very moment and dumped a bucket of ice on us. What the HELL did he just say? Not even in death? That sounds like…like…

My hand falls limp from his back and I feel bile rise in my throat. "Get off," I mutter quietly.

Kyle doesn't seem to hear, but when I suddenly buck and jostle his position, he glances over and peers at me as if I've lost my damn mind. I might as well have with what I've realized. His eyes are still filled with lust and it would only take one word, or a look, or something, and he would be back on me and I would more than happily be returning the favors.

But at the moment, that's a little hard. How could I have not REALIZED?! It was so damn obvious but…I didn't think they'd mean me! Why would _they_ want _me_, I thought they hated me. They have no reason to think I'd join them. I'd never fucking join them! I refuse to be their Brother S.

Kyle's eyes are still filled with a want, a need to have me where I was before. Even realizing who he's, no doubt, trying to make me become, it's hard when I want what's above me so much.

Well…this makes things complicated.

**-i**_**BB**_ and _**f **_**G**


	11. X The Impact

**AN: **This chapter is unnecessarily long and we're not sure how it got that way, probably because it was written over so many days. We love the reviews, feedback, and reactions when you all read these chapters! And guess what? Indiana Beach Bum has drawn a portrait of our BELOVED Miller! Austin will be next, but in the meantime check out Mill on IBB's deviant art page. The link is in her bio. Go look and bask, bask in his beauty!

**The Reformation of Kyle Broflovski**

**X. **The Impact

The first sound I hear when I wake up is our mini-fridge kicking on again. It's so loud that sometimes I use it as an alarm clock. My eyes crack open and I peer around the room, immediately noticing that I'm on the opposite side from where I'm used to. Instant memories flood my mind about the night's activities as I twist my head around just enough to see Kyle and his closed eyes, sound asleep behind my shoulder. The side of his face is smashed against my back, and my eyes shift down to his naked chest pressed against me. His right arm loosely hangs over my abs and our legs are so entangled, I wonder how we could've slept that way.

Dorm beds are just about as small as they come, and I feel like I'm about to fall over the edge. I lightly nudge Kyle to scoot over, to which he grunts and frowns, still not waking. I try to maneuver onto my back, which in turn, forces him to move over. I shift my boxers so that they're aligned properly and let out a sigh, as if all of this movement so early has worn me out.

Could've been from of the night before.

"Kyle?" I whisper, peering over to the most unexpected surprise I've gotten since I've been here.

He says nothing. Like I said before, it's always been a task to wake Kyle up. This time, I have better resources.

I flip all the way over to my other side so that I'm facing him. At the sound of his light snores, I extend my neck forward and press my lips onto his soft cheek. Even in sleep, it still blushes. I continue delivering featherlike kisses on his cheek, his nose, and his chin before reaching his slightly parted mouth. Applying heavier pressure, I mold our lips together until I feel him kissing back.

I suppose it's the shock of waking up that way that causes him to grab my arms with an iron grip. His eyes snap open and he stares at me as though what I did was the most terrible thing ever. I retract my head and cower away. But in doing so, he must realize his overreaction, because he wraps his arms around me and pulls me closer.

"Good morning," he greets with a smile.

"Hey," I answer back, feeling how contagious his grin is.

"How did you sleep?"

I crease my eyebrows. "I don't think these beds are built for two."

His smile fades to worry. "Are you okay?"

I grin wider. "I think I'll be fine." My body, especially my neck and shoulders, are probably another thing. I lightly finger the spots where Kyle seemed to appreciate more than others. Obviously I can't see or feel anything, but I can only imagine the red spots left behind.

"I was a little overzealous wasn't I?" He questions and I wrinkle my nose at the vocabulary.

"Its not as if I didn't respond."

"…Maybe you should wear a collar today," he lightly suggests.

"That bad?"

"You can always say you had an allergic reaction to the Russian food."

"On my neck?"

"And your collar bone, and shoulders and," he pauses to peek over me. "And your back."

We laugh lightly together before it fades awkwardly. Kyle starts to rub my arms in a gently soothing manner before I stop him. It's not to say that I don't love the feeling. I do. I love the step we've taken and I honestly can't wait for more, but at the same time I haven't forgotten anything I've learned from last night, or the night before.

He looks at me curiously and I reach over and brush my hands over the crest on his back. He instantly tenses and stares at me hard. Funny how he didn't notice this last night.

"When did you get this?" I ask as oblivious as possible.

Kyle doesn't answer, rather he continues to stare. I can practically see his eyes asking me not to pry, but if I was playing the honest innocent guy, I would be genuinely curious.

"I thought you were against tattoo's," I add, trying to make my tone sound blasé and merely curious. "And even so…" I run my hand more firmly over the crest. "Most tattoo's don't leave this feeling of cut open skin. Almost feels like a-"

He interrupts me by rolling his shoulders lightly to get my hand off his back. "I forgot to tell you," he says instead. "Baseball tryouts start this Wednesday. I didn't know if you've seen the flyers or not, or if you are even considering it, but I think you should."

I shrug, mildly miffed that he'll still change subjects so abruptly on me. "Haven't really thought much more about it," I respond honestly.

"Well, I think it'd be in JV's best interest to have you," he furthers, propping himself up on his elbow and looming over me. "Of course, I may be biased."

I laugh. Okay. This is more like the Kyle I know. Maybe…maybe all we needed was…for _that_ to happen. Now we're closer than ever, right? Right? I counterattack his hand that comes down to tickle my side. "I'm not sure if that's what I should be focusing on…right now…" I say in between jerks to keep him away.

He stops playing and looks at me seriously. "Stan, I think you SHOULD. It's for the betterment of the team! There isn't a guy out there who looks as cute in his cleats and uniform as you do."

"Not even Miller?" I say, instantly regretting it.

He drops his head back and lets out a loud sigh. A sigh of extreme annoyance. Yeah, I shouldn't have said it. I'm kicking myself for doing so. Still, Miller is somewhat of an enemy, since he is the one telling me I'll be the relief pitcher.

"Can we NOT talk about anyone else for a little while? Is that okay?" he asks, a little bit angrier than I feel he should.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. I'll shut up now." I lean in to kiss him again, but he pulls away. Way to kill the mood, Stan.

Kyle disentangles himself from me and I watch as he busies himself with picking up the articles of clothing we abandoned last night. He isn't trying to hide the crest; guess there's no point now. He tosses the clothes in our laundry bin before going through drawers, pulling out fresh clothing.

"You should get up soon, we still have classes you know," he says to me as he continues to grab what he needs. "I'm taking a shower," he says just as he slips out the door.

At the shut of the door, I groan and fall back onto the bed, doing exactly what he told me not to do. So he's irritated at me again, no surprise there. I stay where I am, looking at the ceiling, and when he returns he lets out a snort.

"Haven't moved an inch, I see."

"Fine," I say in a bored voice.

"Fine what?"

"Fine, I'll try out for the baseball team tomorrow."

"Don't do it just because I want you to do it," he responds as he makes a few noises, going through his notebooks and such.

"I'm not," I protest. Not entirely anyway. I really would rather take a year off from sports all together, but at this point I'll do anything to keep Kyle and me on good terms. And it'll help to see Miller's face when he sees just how damn good I am.

"Right, I can see your excitement shining through," he tells me dully. "I have to meet a few people so I'm heading to breakfast and class on my own."

I lift only my head to acknowledge his departure. "You leaving now?"

He half-smiles at me and walks over to the door. "That was the plan, yes."

"Okay." I drop my head back to its original spot. "See ya," I respond lazily. I listen for the door as it closes, then latches, and then locks. I don't know why, but I get the feeling like he's barred me in—I'm his prisoner. That's ridiculous, though. He just told me to get up.

My body heavily protests this. I extend my arms high above my head and flex my feet, stretching with a deep breath. I've been cruel to my body with my less-than-adequate sleeping conditions the past few days. The first night, I'd rather have been in my bed. Last night, though, it'll just have to deal with. And possibly get used to.

Still, I can't shake the dreaded feeling in the pit of my stomach that forms each time I allow my happiness to shine through. I'm taking the bad with the good, I guess. Kyle wants me to join his absurd cult, and I am the next recruit. They said so in their meeting. I can't believe I was so dense I couldn't put two-and-two together.

Wait a minute. What if…what if everything Kyle is doing is _because_ he wants me to join? He obviously knows how much he means to me. He found out just how much last night. What if…what if this is all some ploy to get me to do what he wants? To soften me up so I fold under pressure? Fuck! This is making my brain hurt.

I know I ought to be spending more time thinking this through. If Kyle really thinks he can recruit me over to the HHS, I need to think of something to counteract that. At the same time…I don't want him to know that I know that he's planning on doing just that. And would he really be trying to soften me up? I can't imagine that what I felt, and what he must have felt last night, was all some damn ploy. I know Kyle's changed, but he can't possibly have become cruel. Not like that.

At the same time, he _was_ the one who made that suggestion about getting rid of Austin.

Ugh! I sit up and run both my hands through my hair in frustration. I need a shower. I'll get back to all this later.

Hopping out of bed, I pull on a t-shirt and some sweat pants. I grab an extra towel to drape over my neck and peek in the mirror. The marks are still noticeable but I doubt anyone will notice. Taking my stuff I head to the showers, opting to take one in a private shower yet again. The last thing I need is the guys questioning me about my red marks. I'm not sure how, or rather if I want to, bother explaining that. Probably something better kept to myself.

"Hey Stan since when did you get so shy?" One of the guys hollers out as I close the curtain.

I'm not entirely sure what to say. Sure these guys have always been nice to me, more or less. But at the same time they've been somewhat distant like everyone else in this college, and now all of a sudden they're acknowledging me again? I squeeze my body wash as I start the shower, ignoring whoever called out to me.

Kyle must've said something. I'm half pleased, half annoyed.

Quickly getting my morning rituals over with, I finish the shower; change and head back to the room, still ignoring the friendly questions about my sudden interest in privacy.

Once back in the room I look myself over. Jeans and a collared shirt. Shouldn't be anything worth thinking over except that I never wear collared shirts, and this one doesn't hide a damn thing on my neck. What am I supposed to do, wear the collar up like some prep? I cringe at the thought, I've seen Miller in propped collars and frankly, while I'm not dissing the style, I don't want anyone to think I picked it up from him.

Well fuck them. It's not like I have any other reasonable options.

It almost quarter till 10, and I've got Calculus in fifteen minutes. Whoever decided it would be a good idea to have a math class everyday should be shot. But at least in there I can slump down and pretend I don't exist. My drafting class is what I'm worried about. 

Glancing outside, I see that it's starting to snow. The lightweight flakes float over to the window, attach themselves, and immediately melt off. PERFECT! I turn to my closet and dig out the overgrown tan scarf my mom bought me to 'battle the winter cold'. Never thought I'd say this, but I'm really glad she gave it to me. Maybe I can just pretend I'm cold all day.

Slipping the scarf over my jacket, I gather my books and my book bag and head off to class. The winter precipitation is dusting the ground lightly, and I feel it seep into my sneakers as I walk hastily to class. It really _is_ freaking cold out here.

Making it into the room with four minutes to spare, I opt for the closest seat to the door and slide down out of sight. I've made few friends in this class—much like every other one I'm in—and don't intend for that to change anytime soon. As the clock on the wall clicks over to 10:00, I dig out my pencil and notebook and prepare for another fun-filled lecture.

Halfway through the first minute of the professor chatting away, I feel sweat beads accumulating inside the material of the scarf. What is it…like 180 degrees in here? Is it ALWAYS this damn hot? I swear, the world's against me.

And to make matters worse, this class is just swimming with HHS members. Austin might've said that they aren't chosen for their smarts, but I don't think any of them are dumb either. They can't be to be in _this_ class. Subconsciously, I feel their eyes glued to me. The professor, oblivious as ever to his students, continues rambling on about derivatives as they begin chatting. I try my best to ignore them, but when a few of them look over and say, "hey Stan," I have no choice but to whisper back, "what!"

Nothing comes from their useless banter, but I continue to grow uncomfortable in the sub tropic environment. I know if I keep this jacket on, I'm going to end up roasting like a rotisserie chicken. Trying to be nonchalant, I unbutton my jacket and remove my scarf, almost immediately hunching my shoulders and sloping down into my seat.

Okay, maybe that was more obvious.

Damn, it's like my doing that alerted them and I can practically feel ten pairs of eyes zoomed in on me. Why cant these assholes mind their own business! Trying to be suave about it, I prop my collar back up, but I'm pretty sure it's too late. I try to keep my eyes on the lecture and the figures being drawn by the professor, but my mind is so far from anything related to math.

It's hard to act like I don't notice them staring, when I know very well that they are and at what.

"Jesus Christ man," I hear someone hiss, and I glare over at the guy sitting to the right of me.

"What?!" I hiss back, trying to feign annoyance.

"What happened to your neck?!"

I try to take control of my emotions, but I can feel the heat rise in my face. I turn back to face the front of the class, "rash," I mutter. It's a disgusting thought, but its not like it's uncommon.

"From what?" he hisses again, and this time I choose to ignore him. He's HHS so I shouldn't even be talking with him in the first place.

When our teacher excuses us, I practically bolt from the room before I can be asked anything else. Luckily for me it's still cold as hell outside, and I swing my scarf back over my neck in relief. Couldn't my mom have thought to get me a lighter scarf instead of this gigantic wool one?! There's no way I can keep this up all day! Maybe I should skip until the redness fades away…Damn Kyle! I'm not letting him near easily exposed skin again! He had to know exactly what he was doing!

I slump my shoulders knowing I can't skip my next class. It's my technical drawing class, and while it's my favorite, its also only once a week. Skipping a three-hour class is like skipping a weeks worth of physics. Stupid. Though I still have an hour to kill time, and my stomach is more than happy to suggest what I ought to do to kill that time.

As I enter the mess hall, I decide they must be doing a Hawaiian theme today. Not only is everyone wearing lays and those stupid flowered shirts, I swear they set the thermostat to: incinerate Stan. I duck into line quickly, grabbing a few pineapple and ham sis kabobs and some mango salsa. Almost as swiftly, I fill my glass up with that awesome fresh lemonade they have, pay for my meal, and head over to Austin and I's usual table. At least now I'll be able to sit with my back facing the wall of HHS members starting to pile up in the dining room.

Unbuttoning my jacket and unwinding the scarf, I place them next to me on the booth. Just to make sure, I pop my collar before digging in.

Good thing too. Because when one of the damned suddenly plops down in front of me without an invitation, I about choke on my pineapple. "Jason!" I acknowledge, reaching for my lemonade.

"Hey Stan," he replies. I watch as he unrolls his napkin and places his silverware on the table. He looks like he's getting comfortable there. Like he plans to stay awhile.

I chew cautiously, eyeing him as he begins to cut his own slab of ham. I don't know if my face shows how shocked I am, but I can feel myself radiating it. He finally looks up mid bite.

"Can I…help you?" I ask as politely as possible.

"Why yes, you can," he says cheerily. He leans over the table with his fork in hand. "Stan, I'm not so sure we started off on the right foot. Here I was trying to befriend you and you felt even more alienated because of my acceptance with Miller."

I shrug. I wish I could have an honest conversation with this guy. I wish I could pretend I didn't know exactly what he was trying to do. But all I can think of is that fire poker hissing as it contacted his bare skin.

He takes another bite, chews it, and takes a swig of water. "I'm going to level with you. I really think we ought to start over. We're both here for the same reason, right?"

Huh? Is he here for Austin? He couldn't be! He refuses to acknowledge his existence.

He looks at me like he's waiting for me to answer him. "You know. Architecture? Stan? Are you okay?"

Oh. Architecture. He's here because he's studying to be an architect. And so am I. That's right. "Yeah, I'm fine," I mumble, not really wishing this conversation to go any further.

"And since we're in the same major it only makes sense for us to band together. It may be a prominent department here, but we're still one of the smallest."

"Look," I start as I stab my food. "I'm not interested in "banding together" with a guy that pretty much trapped me in a staircase a few weeks ago."

I watched unamused as Jason laughs lightly. As if it was a joke between friends and all should be forgiven. All is not forgiven, and I'm not going to pretend that it is. I may choose not to talk shit about the HHS in front for Kyle, but that by no means, means I have to deal with them.

"Sorry about that," he says as he calms himself down. Jason gives me an easy smile and I dart my eyes to my food. "Miller likes to be precautious about everything. Besides, no harm done right?"

I snort and continue to eat.

"And we got along before you knew what group I belonged to, didn't we? We could be really good friends," he adds, saying the same thing Kyle's said me. I can't deny that, I HAD felt like Jason was going to be a good friend. But still…

"I make it a habit to trust my friends," I say and stand up, tray and all. Screw this, I can take my food to go and eat by myself in a hallway for all I care. I refuse to be suddenly accepted into this warmth the HHS seems to be dishing out.

"Stan?" He calls out and I wonder why I've stopped. At least to my credit, I don't turn around. "Don't you want your jacket and things?"

Cringing, I turn on my heel and without looking at him, I slip it and my scarf on only to pick up my tray and take my leave once more. "Hey," he says before I have the chance to leave the table.

"What, what do you want?" I question in irritation. I just want to leave!

He eyes me silently, looking me over and I tense slightly when he looks at my scarf, but his eyes continue over me until they reach my eyes once more. "You mean a lot to Kyle you know," he says simply. I'm taken aback from what he's said and he must realize it because his face lights up slightly and a smile creeps onto his lips. "But the HHS means a lot to him as well. Bye Stan."

As I'm left standing there, I watch him gather his things and retreat to a few guys I don't know. I'm not sure if they're HHS or not, but I can't see Jason hanging out with anyone else.

"Bye Danny," I respond. I don't whisper it, but I don't shout it out. I can tell he heard me, but he doesn't acknowledge what I said. I don't make too big of deal about it myself, and hoist my tray into one hand. I weave in and out of oncoming traffic, heading for the doors. I'll just duck into the hallway and eat on a bench. The crowd seems larger than usual though, and I'm halted by a massive traffic jam directly in front of me. When they finally do clear out, I try proceeding forward only to find that my scarf is caught on something. I turn around and glance down, seeing that someone must've pushed my scarf in with his empty chair simultaneously. Yanking it free, I turn back around and practically slam into Miller's hand. He holds me back from entering his personal space with a strong, cautionary forearm.

"You better watch where you're going, Stanley," he warns.

I roll my eyes. He may think he can boss around the whole damn school, but I will not bow down to him. His threats are meaningless to me. Especially when he addresses me as Stanley. "Get out of my way, Miller."

He chooses to ignore my command and instead ruffles my winter clothing, securing the scarf between his fingers. "Where are you going in such a hurry," he asks, not really interested in the answer to his question.

"Leave me alone," I demand.

He drops the scarf and looks at me with a titled head. "Suited up for the winter, are you?" Nothing in his tone makes me think that he, for a second, is trying to make conversation. He has a goal. And I'm pretty damn sure it's to humiliate me with my 'rash.' I only threw on the scarf to get the hell out of here. Its not even covering me.

"It IS snowing outside," I grumble.

His eyes rove over my neck, concentrating on any visible red splotches. His pupils dilate and I see something inside of him explode. But he doesn't show it on the outside except for a mild twitch to the eye. I almost want to parade it around in his face as he cries himself into defeat, but I refuse to sink to his level. Instead, I stand up straight and allow him to study me. If I say and do nothing, it won't be my fault when he blows up.

"Baseball tryouts start tomorrow," he states matter-of-factly.

"Kyle told me."

"Kyle's done a lot for you," he decides with flared nostrils.

"He always has," I agree.

He takes a deep breath before speaking. "They start at 3. Don't be late. They don't wait around for the second string players." With that said, he seemingly passes through me, taking his seat next to some HHS members I don't know and don't care to know. I glare, taking a deep breath myself. When my feet begin moving again, they head straight over to the trash where I dump my tray. Fuck eating, I'm getting the hell out of this building.

Shoving my hands into my pockets, I waste no time in leaving. It's still pretty early and I probably have over a half hour to waste before my technical drawing class starts. Once outside, I look in the direction of the dorms and decide its not worth walking all the way back there to spend some random amount of time doing nothing before heading back over in this direction.

The classroom should probably be empty so I guess I can always hang out there for a while. Maybe even attempt to do some work as I sure as hell need to. I'm falling slightly behind in that class and seeing as how it's my favorite, I feel like I ought to be doing better. Ducking my head down slightly so as to avoid getting snowflakes in my eyes, I make my way slowly across the quad to the correct building. The quad is pretty empty given the time of day, but I suppose most people are either in class or in the mess hall.

My drawing class is actually the only class I have that's in the building mostly for the architecture department, and seeing how I only have this class once a week, I'm rarely here. Shame since it's such a nice building, but there is one thing I don't like about it, and it's the resounding silence that's always in the hallways. You'd think no one ever used it for the lack of noise throughout the different floors.

When I step into my classroom I'm surprised to see one other student hunched in front of a computer, clicking away. Glancing at the clock I see that I only spent about fifteen minutes eating, or attempting too. I have a lot of time to spare. At the shut of the door, the guy's back springs straight and he whips his head to look at me.

I recognize him of course, but I've never talked to him before.

"Hey," I greet and shuffle my way through the desks, and tables to get to the computer I normally tend to occupy. It's practically across the room from the other guy, so it's no wonder we've never talked before. "You're kinda early," I point out as I slide into my seat and dump my bag on the floor.

"I could say the same about you," he says back and at the sound of his voice, my blood runs cold and I stare lifelessly into the blank computer screen.

"Do you normally come here at this time?" I ask, trying my best to not show the discomfort I feel from his presence. That face…that VOICE! I now know where I recognize him from, and it's not from this class. Hell, I haven't paid attention to a damn person in here other than the professor. I don't need to. No, he was one of those guys in charge of making sure nobody breached the doors at the HHS meeting. One of the guys whose stupidity let me in.

He shrugs and turns to face me. "I've got a class in the drafting room down the hall before this, so when I get out of there, I head on into here. But _you're_ never early, Stan." The sound of my name lingers in his voice and in his eyes. He's looking at me like I should be confessing something.

"You…you know my name," I reply hoarsely. Of course he does. They all do now.

"I make it a point to learn my classmates' names."

I frown. "You've never talked to me before," I point out.

He purses his lips and considers this. "That's true." Turning his head, he smiles at me. "Which is why I'm starting now. The name's Marc," he continues, standing up out of his seat and moving toward me with an open hand. Does he expect me to greet him with a friendly handshake? How I can do that when I know the only reason he's even interested in me is because his cult wants me for their next member? And Marc…Marc, Marc, Marc. I remember that _name_ too. I remember hearing it when I was in their meeting.

I reluctantly stick out my hand to feign interest. "I'm Stan. But you already knew that."

He chuckles lightly, grasping my hand and taking the seat next to mine. "Sure did. You're Kyle's friend."

"I am," I agree, and suddenly get very self-conscious of my neck and any other evidence that I'm more than just Kyle's 'friend'. What the hell does this guy even want anyway? He's trying so hard to be nice, but he'll never be my brother. Ugh, brother. I can't even say that word without thinking of-

"Kyle is a good friend to Miller Bradley. I'm an old friend of Miller's." He looks at me to see if I've made sense of the personal connection he made between us. I stare at him blankly, and he begins this hand gesture of drawing a circle with his fingers in the air. "That's how we know each other."

"Is that so." I am thoroughly bored of this conversation, and I'm not really sure where he's planning on going with it. But the more I sit there and say nothing, the more he thinks of things to chat about. None of which make even a remote difference in my opinion of him. He's still scum, and he's still part of the demon society that's taken my best friend/whatever he is to me now.

I can tell he's trying too hard. He must be a weak one in their "perfect" society. If he says too much, then I can use it against him.

"Listen, Marc, is it?" I respond, putting my hand on his shoulder and pretending to be sincere. "Look, I came here early hoping to get some work done. So if you don't mind…"

"Oh not at all. Don't mind me, brother," he says with smile. I shoot my eyes to his direction, glaring at him in shock. In response, he winks at me and continues to stare.

Does he think that's amusing? That I won't catch it? Of course he doesn't know I was at the last HHS meeting, but is he an idiot? He shouldn't have risked tossing around the word 'brother' like that! It'd make anyone suspicious whether or not they've seen and heard what I have.

I turn back to my computer and switch it on. I wait for it to boot up when the sound of Marc's insistent typing and clicking grabs my attention. I glance over at him once I've entered the correct program. He looks like he knows exactly what he's doing; he's flying through the steps and diagrams like he's dealt with them before.

I, on the other hand, most definitely have never dealt with it before. It's obvious because I'm a little slow, and I'm easily lost when I make a mistake.

"Damnit," I mutter to myself when I realize I've accidentally deleted something without knowing how.

"Having trouble?" Marc's voice rings out over the mostly empty classroom and I sigh into a slouch.

"I'm fine," I practically growl back.

"If you say so," he responds, almost cheerfully, before going back to his own work.

It's not even a few minutes later before I swear to myself again. When I feel a light pressure on my shoulder, I jump and swear again. I look up at Marc and let out an irritated sigh, "you sure do know how to sneak up on people."

He beams at me, but doesn't respond to that comment, which I find rather interesting. "It sounds like you need some help."

"I do not need," I watch him fall into the seat beside me. "Help," I finish lamely. "Okay so this program isn't really my forte," I mumble. "But I can figure it out myself, so if you would be so kind as to get the hel – how'd you do that?" The drawing I had accidentally deleted pops back onto the screen. I thought I had lost it.

"It's simple," he starts, and before I know it, Marc is explaining and showing me how to do things I figured I'd never learn in one day. I'm almost amazed how much he knows, and it's not until other people start trickling in that I realize we've lost track of time. Marc stands when the guy who normally occupies his spot turns up. "Dude…thanks," I say surprised. "But what about your own work?"

"I was working on extra credit, and you're welcome. If you ever need more help, let me know okay?"

I find myself nodding slowly and even smiling, until I see him walk away and meet up with another guy I've never talked too. Not a member, but a cheerleader of the HHS. Shit, in that time, I forgot Marc was one of them. He was so helpful and even nice to me, while I was being a tad bitter toward him. How could the HHS get a guy like him? He may lack knowledge in the common sense department, but the guy knows his tech drawing shit. And he was patient with me, something I've come to realize not a lot of people have when I don't understand something.

That pisses me off. First Jason, now Marc. Every time I think I've found someone worth hanging out with, they turn out to be cult members. That only puts me in a mood, and I'm not able to focus during class, even though its three hours. Every once in awhile I glance over at Marc, and every so often he catches me, only to give me a bright smile before turning his attention back to the lecture.

At one point, I glance over and see him whispering to his groupie. I see them both shoot their eyes ever so quickly over to me and then the lackey smiles. Marc nods and goes back to whatever it is he was doing. What is it with their secrets? I feel like I'm in fucking high school again!

Soon enough, the professor dismisses us from his tutelage, and we are turned loose to explore the program that Marc helped me out with. He tells us once we've finished the preliminary drawing, we are allowed to go. Thanks to Marc, I complete the prelim and even begin on a final one before I decide to call it quits. I save it to my disc and exit the program. Peeking over to see Marc and his buddy still hard at work, I feel it's probably best for me to leave without drawing attention to myself. In doing this, I pull on my coat and scarf before walking over to the professor's desk to drop off my saved work. Before I exit the room, I see Marc look up from his desk and wave at me. I wave back cautiously then walk into the hallway.

That was relatively easy today. Hey! Feeling that way brightens my spirits, no matter whatever the hell else is going on in my life. I allow a smile to creep out as I make my way out of the building and back to the dorms.

My happiness is short lived. As I near the mess hall, I feel my stomach rumbling. Its not the average 'I'm hungry, I need to eat' rumble either. It lasts for several seconds, making me think my stomach is angry with me for depriving it food. I should probably get at least a _snack_ before going back. Upon my arrival, I try my best to go unnoticed through the large quantity of HHS members dwelling in the dining area. They seem to ignore me. Good. I like it better that way.

But one person _doesn't_ ignore me. I inwardly cringe when I see a familiar head of brown head my way. Weird. Austin is actually on my list of people I _don't_ want to see.

I greet him just the same. "Hey man, how's it going?"

He stops right in front of me and huffs. "It's been better."

I shift my weight nervously. "What's going on?"

"I was hoping you could tell me, Stan," he bites back, crossing his arms. "Are you trying to avoid me, or are you just really damn good at it?"

"Austin," I sigh.

"No, no making excuses. Right now, I have nothing to do except listen to your explanation." He looks around. "Do you need to be somewhere?"

My shoulders drop, and I suddenly feel amazingly guilty. Guess he did his job. "No."

"Okay then. So what's goin-"

"Not here," I warn him. Thankfully, he senses my precaution and why, and he lets me pay for my granola bar before we exit the room and head back to his dorm together.

"Alright, explain," he says even before he's completely shut his door.

I settle myself down on his desk chair and think of ways to possibly prolong the inevitable. It wont be hard to tell him about the HHS meeting, but…I'm not sure how I'll break the news to him about Jason—_his_ Danny's inauguration.

"Maybe you should…sit," I hesitantly tell him. He's looming over me looking like he might pounce, and its not doing so well for my nerves.

"Standing's fine, it'll make you think twice before you try to lie to my face." Gotta give him points there. He might be shorter than me, but he has the whole pissed off intimidation thing down. It's almost uncanny how alike he and Kenny are…

"You'll want to sit," I repeat.

"And I'm telling you I'd rather stand," he snaps.

"Fine," I sigh and look at the flooring. "Last Sunday, um, when I told you to cover for me about my whereabouts should Kyle ask?"

"Yeah?" He prods, obviously not happy that I'm taking my time spitting out what he wants to know.

"I was at…"

"Stan!" He almost shouts.

"I was at an HHS meeting," I rush out. Letting out a breath, I peek my eyes to look up at him.

He's narrowing his eyes, almost as if he doesn't believe me. But I feel like he knows that I shouldn't, and _wouldn't_, lie about something like this. He darts his eyes toward his bed before slowly making his way to it and sitting himself down.

"An HHS meeting?" He questions slowly, and I nod. "Do you think I'm fucking stupid?"

"What?!"

"You want me to believe that you got into a High Honors Society meeting and that you didn't get caught? And I'm assuming you didn't get caught because you're still you. The asshole version of you, but you nonetheless."

"Hey!" I contest, feeling like he's jumping to conclusions. "I'm not being an asshole!"

"Now you're being a whiny asshole," he corrects. "Tell me what this is really about, Stan."

"I'm trying to, Aust-"

"I saw you with Danny today," he barks. "What was that all about, huh?"

My eyes go wide. "You…you, uh, you saw that, huh?" Wait a minute, why am I stuttering? That's only going to make me sound guiltier!

"And you two were sitting at _our_ table, Stan. What was he doing? What could've he possibly had to say to you?"

"He was just talking-"

"What do ANY of them possibly have to say to you? They're acting different, Stan. YOU'RE acting different. What happened?" He folds his arms and waits for me to answer.

I shift uncomfortably in my jacket and scarf. I've never seen him like this before. "I'll start from the beg-"

"And take off that damn jacket, you're clinging to it like you've got a fucking bomb under it." His motions freeze and he stares at me accusingly. "…Oh God, they've gotten to you. You're their ticket! You're going to blow me up!" He begins backing away from me on his bed.

At this insane allegation, I bolt out of my chair and kneel down in front of him. I put my hands on his knees soothingly. "Austin, that is crazy talk! They didn't get to me." He stares down at me, looking ready to defend himself should I attack. I slowly remove my hands to take off my jacket. When it opens to my shirt, he sees that I don't have anything strapped to me. Then I remove my scarf so he can see there's no wires or anything taped to me. Lastly, I lift my shirt so he can see for himself. Nothing.

"See? I'm clean. I swear to you."

His eyes widen as they roam my skin. "Jesus Christ, what happened to you!"

Confused, I push my shirt back down and roll my eyes around. "What?" I ask with a creased brow.

"Your body! It looks like you were attacked with a vacuum!"

"_OH_!" I yell. I immediately grab my jacket and try to zip it back up, erasing any possibility that Austin just saw what I know he saw, but he stops me with caring hands.

As he looks into my eyes, I see understanding. "You're telling me the truth, aren't you."

Sighing, I drop my hands and nod.

He looks around me and extends an arm and hand to help me up, as though I'm some groveling slave and he just exonerated me. "Get up off the floor," he commands. I accept his offering and take a seat next to him on the bed. "You're right. Start from the beginning."

I take a deep breath to collect my thoughts. "Well, I guess when Kyle attacked me, I decided I had to find out what they were doing in that damn cult."

"Kyle attacked you?" he asks incredulously.

I nod again. "Only…it wasn't the kind of attack that you'd think." I close my eyes, remembering every feeling, every…touch…that occurred. I shiver. "He more or less tied me down with his body and told me I'm his," I finish in one breath.

Austin's eyes widen and he doesn't blink for a very long time. When he does, its only because he had to tell himself to do it.

"Yeeeah…so I made it a point to follow him to his meeting, and yes, I did it. I managed to get through without being seen too."

"How did you-"

"That's not important. What IS important is that I heard a lot of shit I wasn't supposed to hear and," I shake my head, "SAW a lot of shit I wasn't supposed to see. And…" He looks at me, his every breath hitched on what I have to say. "…And I know their plans for the future."

I watch as the color slowly drains from Austin's face. "Doesn't sound like good news," he says softly.

"Guess it depends who you talk to…I know who they want to recruit next."

At this he scoffs and sighs to himself, "probably some guy who'd sell his own mother to join anyway. I'm sure he'll be a happy guy."

"Not exactly," I mutter.

"Not exactly?" He repeats in confusion. "Who wouldn't want to join the HHS?"

"Well," I tilt my head to the side. "You."

Austin scoffs loudly and lets out a crude half laugh, "yeah okay, someone _besides_ me."

I stare at him silently, and watch as the dawning comes into his eyes. He's suddenly gripping my wrists and leaning in closer. "No," he says deadpanned, and I nod. "No way…" he breaths out. "But…no, I mean…why? Since when?" His eyes narrow. "This is Kyle's doing isn't it?"

I sigh. "Could be. But…things aren't exactly the same between us anymore either."

At this, Austin snorts and gestures at my neck. "Obviously."

I drop my jaw and opt to stare at the floor. My cheeks are heating up and I'm pretty sure I'm three shades redder than a few seconds before. "That…uh…well he…"

"That was from another attack, wasn't it," Austin fills in for me. He chuckles to himself. "Bet you didn't mind that one too much."

My eyes snap up to meet his. "I don't think this has anything to do with the fact they want me. It's completely separate!" I lower my voice. "At least, I hope it is."

Austin sighs and places a caring hand on my forearm. "You didn't have to lie to me before, you know. I knew you had a thing for Kyle."

"I'm gonna feel like such an idiot if this all just some scheme to get me to join," I mutter.

"Its not," Austin states simply. He removes his arm and looks out his window. "Besides, you have bigger things to worry about."

"Like?"

He turns to me again. "Like saving Kyle."

I wish I could believe him. I wish that his words were inspiring and gave me a sense of hope I didn't have before. But I know now, after what I've seen, that it won't be as easy as that. It's not about saving him anymore. It's about reforming him. Restoring him. Resuscitating him. It'll be a lot more work than me telling him I don't want him to be a part of some cult he's promised himself too. We're going to need intervention. A flawless plan of attack.

"Stan?" Austin asks, interrupting my daydreams.

"Yeah?"

"Its not too late for him. You still have his heart. You can get him out of there." Austin speaks with a sense of hopelessness, and I know that, in his heart, he's given up on Danny. I shudder to think what he'd say or do if I told him what I know about his former best friend. I'm not sure I ever should.

"I wonder about that heart of his," I respond. "If it's really the Kyle I know, or if it's someone else's. I wonder who did this to me," I say gesturing toward my neck. "My Kyle, or the JV influenced him. After everything I learned at the HHS meeting, after seeing that, that brand on his back, seeing someone get branded with a sizzling fire poker and knowing Kyle went through that willingly?" I shake my head to myself. "I could be setting myself up, I don't know how I'll get him out."

"They brand their members?" Austin questions, his lip curling in disgust.

"Not all of them, but…I felt Kyle's, I saw his. From the way Miller was talking about it, and yes," I snort as Austin opens his mouth to ask something. "Miller did the branding, no surprise there." Austin raises an eyebrow in agreement before I continue. "From the way he was going on about it, it sounds like only the hardcore members are branded…which makes me feel so…almost hopeless."

Austin is nodding as if he completely understands, but there's a distance in his gaze.

"…what is it?" I question nervously, though I already know exactly what's bothering him.

He makes sure to meet me square in the eye, and though he tries to look as if he doesn't really care, I notice it's seeping through anyway. "Jason have one?"

I knew it. Even so, I've no idea what to say. I can't simply say yes, I don't want to sound blasé about it. It's Jason after all, his Danny. But it seems like my silence is more than enough of an answer for him.

"I see," he mutters.

He may now know that Jason is branded, but there is no way that I'll ever tell him I actually saw it happen. I think that would be too much for him, it'd be too much for me to say.

"You can't give up on Danny, man," I coax him with an encouraging voice. Mainly because I know that it took Jason THIS long to get branded. Kyle…Jesus, Kyle was branded probably in the first month. Because of Miller. Because that bastard wants _my_ boyfriend.

Austin raises his eyebrows and takes a deep breath, not really looking in my direction. "Like I said before, I'll help you out with Kyle. Danny's a lost cause."

"Don't you want to be with him?" I blurt out.

"Well yeah, but not who he is now!"

"Of course," I say automatically. "What we need is a plan. Talking to them isn't cutting it anymore. We need to take action. I'm through sitting around and watching this…thing…destroy Ky."

He gives me a weird look. "You can have all the action you want." I smile at the comment. "I'm happy sitting here and-"

"And what?" I rudely interrupt. "Sitting there and doing what? Just…waiting around for your Danny to come back? To magically reappear, free of any ills that the damn cult gave him? Completely cured of its evil?" I lean in close. "Austin, you're the one who told me about how horrible the HHS really was. _You're_ the one who hates them even more than I do! Yet you sit there and do nothing. You wait day in, day out, going to class hoping that maybe, just maybe, one day, Danny will come back. WELL GUESS WHAT?!?! He's _not_ coming back unless we bring him back in shackles! So get that brain of yours geared up, we've got to think of something great!"

For the longest time, he frowns at me. His eyes are narrowed and I'm not sure whether I pissed him off or made him 'see the light'. Either way, I have some sort of effect on him, and that's what I was going for. I will never understand how he can put down the HHS for taking Danny, but at the same time be 'okay' with it. Maybe he doesn't love Danny like I do Kyle, but I know he means SOMETHING to him. Otherwise, he'd have left the school a long time ago, he said so himself.

"What are you suggesting we do?" he finally asks.

I smile. He's on board. "I think its time I invite Kenny over for a weekend. Three heads are better than two."

Austin laughs. "This brilliant plan of yours going to include any drug busts, or explosives, or another asinine idea from that friends of yours?"

My grin extends. "We'll find a way to get them out. I can't imagine my life without Kyle."

"Best leave the explosives at home then," Austin replies. He snorts and I go back to pondering how we're ever going to get those two to stray from the pack. One thing's certain. I'm not going to lose him.

I refuse to say goodbye to Kyle.

**- i**_**BB**_ and _**f **_**G**


	12. XI The Proposals

**AN: **Thanks for the constant support through reviews everyone! Now we've made some exciting decisions! And as such, let the countdown to chapter 16 begin…

**The Reformation of Kyle Broflovski**

**XI. **The Proposals

Stretching my bat behind my back I eye the decreasing group around me. It's been the same group of guys since tryouts started on Wednesday and already there've been a lot of cuts. Tryouts here aren't like how they were in high school where everyone gets the same about of time to impress the coaches. Every day people are cut. One guy took a single swing before Miller glanced at him and nodded his head to the side. A 'better luck next year look'.

It's annoying as hell because the coaches allow it. Every time I come near the plate, whether it is to bat or to pitch, he's been staring me down. Clearly waiting for me to make a mistake so he can give me that quickly feared nod. There was nothing like the first time I got my first chance to swing in front of him. I smirked, turned to the pitcher, swung, and watched my first homerun of tryouts. It took every mature muscle in my body not to turn around and stick out my tongue at Miller as I jogged lightly to first base.

Surprisingly, when I reached home there was a group of guys waiting there, cheering and giving me pats on the shoulders. But maybe it's not so surprising. They were HHS guys, and the whole group of them hasn't let up on buttering me up. I can tell though, that even as they congratulate me they're wary of how long they do it. Always casting glances at Miller. Poor pathetic drones, they're torn between being loyal to their fearless leader and conning me into their cultic club.

A loud whistle snaps me out of my reverie and I turn my head to the side where the coaches and Miller are calling everyone in for warm-ups.

Of course Miller had to be team captain. Of course he had to be ONE person that I couldn't kick off this team even if I was the best person here. Which, remarkably, I'm not. I'm out of shape though, and with the rigorous workouts we've been having, I don't see it staying that way for long.

"Okay, you, you, you, you, and you," Miller says automatically once everyone's within hearing distance. He's pointing out guys in groups of five to go off and do an array of practices. Some are doing outfield work, others pitching work, others batting work. There hasn't been any real separation of the positions. Everyone does a little of everything. Apparently focus on your preferred position comes after you've made the team. Makes sense, but at the same time it's damn irritating when all I want to do is go to head to head with Miller in pitching.

At the same time…I frown, I know he'd kick my ass at this point. My arm isn't in the condition it needs to be to compete against him. At least I'm still surprising him. I may fumble once or twice getting a hang of the warm ups and random obstacles he throws our way, but I'm real quick to pick it up. Usually one of the firsts.

"You, you, you, you and you," I hear him say again and watch as another set of five head for the outfield.

He hasn't bothered to learn anyone's name, but neither have the coaches. If they call out your name rather than calling you, "you" or "guy with the red shirt", it apparently means you've got a spot on the team. So far, no one's gotten his name called.

"Hey dude, they're calling for us, you're pitching first," some dark haired guy says to me. I glance up surprised at having day dreamed again.

I, along with four others, head to a spot to the left of the fields. The groups are always five. One pitcher, a batter, one catcher, one infielder in a sense, and one outfielder. We're to practice sinkers, change ups, fast, and curve pitches. Pop ups, ground balls, bunts, everything and everything. Once the pitcher breaks a sweat, we switch positions.

After, we have the mock games, run a couple miles, and warm down. Quick, intense, and effective in weeding out the people who have no chance. I'm not going to say I go through all of this flawlessly—I'm sore and out of breathe like everyone else at the end, but there is that feeling of accomplishment. I can't help but feel that warm sense of a job well done after I've played…I don't know why I thought I'd skip sports this year. Now that I'm trying out, I can't imagine not playing something.

Once I've thrown all the easier balls, I throw my curve and wince as it hits the ground before nearing the catcher. I've been having a hell of a problem with my curves and screwballs for some reason. You'd think I was a pre-teen or something.

"Blue hat!" I wince at Miller's voice. I know he means me; I'm the only one in this general direction wearing a blue hat. It just pisses me off that he doesn't call me by my goddamn name like he doesn't know it.

"Yeah?" I call back, turning toward him with grimace on my face.

He gestures toward himself and I inwardly grown, before letting my group know to go on without me. As I walk to him, I watch the other groups, smirking at a few, and holding back laughter at some more. Okay, maybe I shouldn't laugh, but I've been a jock most of my life, it's hard not laugh at some people. "What do you want?" I ask bored once I've stopped in front of Miller.

He's alone, to the side of the field, as the coaches are off giving pointers to various people.

"Your curveball is shit," he says automatically to me.

I almost drop my jaw. I've never heard the upright, tight ass, holier than thou Miller Bradley swear. I didn't think the pansy had it in him.

"It's a little off," I admit with gritted teeth, giving him the benefit of the doubt. It's true—I'm not to the best of my ability yet. Give it time, Stan. It'll come back to you.

"Maybe if you had your head focused in the game…"

"I do," I affirm.

"You look a million miles away. Perhaps baseball is too distracting," he decides. He looks over in a different direction than my face and handles the ball in his mitt. He turns back to me, waiting for me to retaliate. "Perhaps your reason for _playing_ is too distracting."

"I'm fine," I spit. He's trying to get me going, he doesn't know my reasons for playing. Sure Kyle had mentioned me, put in a good word for me, but he doesn't know I was ever hesitant about trying out.

He eyes me for what seems like an eternity before saying, "I'll show you how it's done right." His mood change is swift and immediate—I'm left standing alone as he walks over to the pitcher's mound. Reluctantly, I follow.

He assumes a stance on the mound, taking a deep breath and pulling his ball cap down so I can't see his eyes anymore. "When I'm pitching, I close off everything around me and let my body do the work. You have to remember that as a pitcher our bodies already know what to do, it's a matter of making them remember." He brings the ball near his glove. "It starts with a surge of energy, and I follow through in a chain reaction, being careful not to use my body, that'll only slow me down, until I can no longer feel the ball on my fingertips." He imitates every word with an action. When he's finished, he looks up to me. "The curveball's the same as any other, except the way you grip the ball, of course."

Jesus God, that's the most words Miller's spoken to me in one setting…ever. He knows his shit and the fact that he's trying to help me is too shocking to believe. At his signal, I walk up to him and claim the ball for myself. He steps back and lets me do my thing. Concentrate, aim, follow through, release! Unlike him, my body ends up being too involved in the pitch and slows it down considerably. I watch it sail over home plate. It's not a curveball, and it was far from perfect.

"And _what_ exactly," he starts slowly, "would you call that?"

I'm not sure what I'd call it, but even I know that wasn't a curveball…that wasn't anything actually. It looked sort of like a pitch from someone who doesn't know the first thing about baseball.

"You are such a waste of my time, and this team's time, you aren't even trying," he criticizes.

I throw my mitt down and charge over to him. "Fuck you, I am trying!" And I am! Sorta…it's too hard with him waiting for me to screw up.

As I grow closer, he walks off to retrieve the ball. I follow him, stomping and demanding an apology. Bending over, he snatches the ball off the ground and turns to face me. He tosses it up in the air and catches it before stealing a long hard glare into my eyes. "You don't know what you're doing. I feel like you should just give this up and leave the pitching to someone who knows how to deal with it."

I yank my baseball cap off my head and aggressively run a hand through my hair. "What the hell do you even know," I mutter.

"I know that if you want something, you've got to work hard to get it! And I've been working a hell of a lot harder than you!" he yells in my face. For the first time, I can feel him losing his 'cool'.

I shrug my shoulders. "It's always been natural for me."

"And it's obvious you don't even care enough to practice!"

I throw my hands up. "What do you call this?! Huh?! I've been throwing my whole self into this damn thing, with more heart than I've had in years! I've been out of the game for awhile! It's not going to come back to me as soon as I come back to it!"

"Why not? Everything else has," he mutters so low I force myself close to him so he can repeat it for me.

"What did you say?" I prompt.

"I said everything takes time."

I shake my head. "No you didn't. If you said that, we wouldn't be having this conversation. No, you said, 'everything else has.' What do you mean by that, Miller?" I'm so close, I can hear the change of pace in his breath. For the first time in our "conversation" he seems as if he's realizing he's spoken more words than he permits himself to say in a single day.

"Never mind it," he snaps irritably. "Just keep practicing because I sure as hell won't let such a weak arm on my team."

I cackle at him. "You're going to have to put your personal feelings aside if we're going to be on the SAME team, Miller."

"I suggest you do the same, Stanley," he retorts, and tosses me the ball before walking off.

It's only when I'm halfway back to my group, steam practically coming out of my ears that I realize something. He called me Stanley, annoying, yes, but…that's my name. I smirk.

I knew I'd get on the team.

-

"You are looking at JV's newest, and eventually best, baseball player," I say the second I enter the dorm room.

Miller and I managed not to even glance at each other the remainder of practice, which is more than fine with me. An additional three guys were cut by the time practice was over and you could feel the anxiety. Well, except with me. I hadn't expected Miller to call out my name in front of the others, but as I was gathering my gear and strapping my duffel across my chest all ready to go, he spoke up.

"Don't forget to work on that curveball Stan," he said. It was simple, barely any malice, and yet…it was one of the worst things he could have said to me. Now I'm the only guy to have been called out and so far, the only one assuredly on the team. I could tell, looking around at the other guys, that they weren't sure how to take it. Most, veterans I'm sure, looked beyond pissed. Including HHS guys. I almost wanted to jog back to the dorm backwards. I expected them to jump me.

In any case, I've made it back safely and instead of getting an automatic congrats on my part from Kyle, he continues to type on the computer.

"I said," I start again, but he cuts me off by saving the document and ordering for it to be printed. He spins on his desk chair to look at me with a smile.

"I heard you, I was finishing a sentence."

He turns back to the computer and grabs the papers as they're printed out. He quickly staples it all together before standing and grabbing his jacket.

Before he can do something, like leave, I block his path and glare at him. He hasn't even congratulated me yet and he's taking off! He's the one that wanted me to try out for the stupid baseball team!

Kyle halts, looking surprised at first before it turns into a smirk. Before I know it, he's grabbed the strap across my chest and has pulled me forward into a hard, bruising kiss. It sends shivers down my body at the feel of the power, and the intensity behind it. I'm almost losing my ability to stand before I'm slightly shoved away as he breaks it.

"I started cleaning up earlier, but do you mind finishing? Just because Kenny's a slob doesn't mean we have to be. I have a meeting with a professor about this paper, but don't forget he'll be here in about an hour. I'll meet you guys back here."

I nod dumbly and let him pass me. As I hear the door reopen and him step through it, I jolt at the feel of his fingers brushing the back of my neck. "And congratulations, as if there was any doubt," he mutters, and I can feel him smiling as he closes the door.

Whatever is going on between him and me, I like it. I hope it continues. We haven't really discussed where we stand yet, or even if he wants it to be a "we" situation, but if he keeps kissing me like that, I can't complain. I'm just going to have my work cut out for me.

But that's why Ken's coming into town. I invited him Tuesday night, right after I spoke with Austin. As soon as I came back to our room, Kyle was there, studying. It's nice knowing that I'm going to see him more now that we're on speaking terms again. We're on a lot more terms than that, but I'm getting a head of myself.

Kyle was thrilled with the idea of Kenny coming up—he was the one that actually called him. I guess he's taken it in his own hands to pull it all together. So apparently Ken's coming within the hour, and Ky's right. This place IS a dump. We've got to at least make space for our buddy to walk through without tripping.

It seems like only a few minutes pass before I look back at the clock, noting that in fact an hour has flown by. Who thought a dorm room could take an hour to clean? I guess when you take the time to sort out your clothes from your boyfriend's, you've used up a good thirty minutes. And Kyle and I haven't exactly been too picky on where our clothes end up. Guess you could say it's a normal guy's room in here.

And because I felt like being Mr. Tidy, I've taken the liberty of actually taking out the trash, dusting, and organizing somewhat. Kyle's desk is still a mess, surprisingly, but I think he'd shoot me if I went through his things, even if it was for a decent cause. I can't help but wonder if one of those binders is the one sent to the meeting. The one containing all the information about me, their next recruit.

I shudder. By now I think it's safe to say this…thing going on between me and Ky has nothing to do with their intentions of getting me onto the HHS. But still, its hard to not get suspicious when his tongue is down my throat and wanting to go further and I can't get the image of that fire poker out of my head. Its fucking with our private life and I've just about had enough. I hope my plan to call Kenny in for reinforcement proves beneficial. I hope he pulls some McCormick genius out of that head of his so we can safely extract Kyle from the jaws of the High Honors Society.

"It's a good thing this campus has awesome security, otherwise a stranger could walk right up into your room," a voice informs me from the doorway, and I spin around, grinning wildly at my good friend.

"Have any problems on the way here?" I ask him.

"Not really," Kenny shrugs, inviting himself in and taking a seat on my bed, the cleanest spot in the room. Probably because it's been unoccupied. "Except that my arm fell asleep about a half hour in and I swerved into oncoming traffic and thought I was gonna die but luckily I realized that my other arm still worked so everything was cool."

I shut my wardrobe doors and head over to him, extending my arms. He greets me in a warm pat-on-the-back embrace. "Good to see you again, Ken."

"Of course it is." We separate and I roll my eyes at his wide smile. "So," he says looking around. "Where's my favorite red headed Jewish kid in a cult?"

"Kenny!" I hiss out and rush to close the door.

"Ah, so we're keeping Kyle's extracurricular activities on the DL, got it. No need to close the doors, unless you like them closed?"

"Ugh," I grimace at his mock suggestive tone. "Kyle's at a meeting with one of his professors. He should be back soon I'm sure."

"Good, I've been dying to see him."

"Really?"

"Why wouldn't I? I haven't seen the guy since I first helped you move in. And, I want to see what this little honors society has done to him. Personality and looks wise. But…" here he stares at me so hard I almost want to slide my eyes to the side. "It must be agreeing with him for you to suddenly be shacking up with him. Stan, I'm disappointed I wasn't informed earlier."

I'm so shocked I don't even think of denying it, "how did you know?!"

Kenny shakes his head, "tsk, tsk, you should have flat out denied it. Not that it would have worked. You have that Kyle-Broflovski-has-his-dirty-way-with-me-and-I-like-it look on."

There are very few times where I'm ever truly embarrassed in front of Kenny, but…this is one of them. My face might as well burst into flames, it's so hot. I can only imagine how red it is.

"Fuck Stan, you could have denied that too," he says in response to my lack of one. His amused face drops and he leans back into my bed.

"I-I-"

"No point in doing it now, idiot." He props himself up on his elbow and crosses his legs, toying with the fabric of my bedspread. "So…" he begins, not really looking at me or my mortified face. "Without too much detail, when and where did _that_ happen."

I take a deep breath and tell myself that it's just Kenny. Austin knew too, so apparently I'm not very good at being secretive. "Monday. He took me out-"

"Oooh, he had plans to woe Sir Stanley Marsh, did he?" Kenny interrupts, chuckling.

I glare at him. "Don't call me Stanley. And yeah, I think he might have. Cause…apparently the way I ate my ice cream made him want to…" I trail off when I see Kenny staring at me with raised eyebrows and the "I said no details" expression. "Lets just say that some things changed that night."

Kenny nods and goes back to focusing on the bedspread. "I must admit, I was surprised when the Cult Master himself called me and invited me instead of you. I figured maybe he'd lost it completely and killed you off and needed another victim." He eyes me slyly. "Glad to see that's not the case."

"I know this makes things complicated-"

"Complicated is an understatement. You're sleeping with the enemy, dude."

"KENNY!" I exclaim. "I'm not…sleeping with the enemy…" I trail off there too since I can't say it hasn't crossed my mind once. Or twice. Or every time we're alone together.

"Do you still hate the cult?"

I nod. "Now more than ever. We've gotta get him out of there, Ken. Before he does something he _really_ regrets."

He throws the bedspread out of his hand and sits up on my bed. "Well I'm game. Let's do what we gotta do!"

Some twenty minutes later, I want to bang my head in. I love Ken, he's the brother I never had, but sometimes…I mean, come on!

"Kenny-" I interrupt him for the twenty something time. "I already told you, we're not going to involve the Italian mafia!"

"But I know a dude in the Italian mafia! He'd totally be willing to help!"

I groan, half wondering if he's for real. I know Kenny gets around, and I know he knows a lot of people, but how much is too much? More often than not, I wonder where his loyalties lie in the grand scheme of things.

"Come on! I have the guy on speed dial! He'd be here tomorrow if I asked him to!"

"No! Jesus Christ, can't you think of something normal for once? Something less…Mission Impossible."

"…dude," he says quietly. "You know I hate Mission Impossible, and besides I don't see you thinking of anything. You haven't thought of a single idea."

"I know, I know! I'm trying, but nothing's coming to me. This is harder than it looks. I'm still having trouble grasping the idea that we're trying to come up with ways of stealing Kyle away from a college cult."

"Is it easier to grasp that you're coming up with ways of stealing your luh-ver away from a college cult?" he jokes, beaming that oh-so-smug grin he wears often. I want to punch him for it.

"No," I mutter. "Look, I think it'd be better if we can get all three of us to present LOGICAL options and plans of attack." I take a seat next to him on the bed, hoping that that's the last harebrain idea I'll hear from him.

He frowns. "I don't think it'd be a very good idea to get Kyle's opinion on how to annihilate his precious society."

"What?" I ask off-guard. I thought I heard footsteps stop in front of the door. "No, Austin is the third one!"

"Hmm, yeah, that probably would be a better idea. Hey, I dig it. Austin's a decent guy."

"Kyle doesn't think s-"

"KYLE!" Kenny yells overly boisterous. His eyes look past me and to the right, and I follow his gaze directly to the door where, in fact, Kyle is standing.

"Hey Kenny!" he says back almost as enthusiastically. He walks in the rest of the way, drops his books off onto his desk, and then greets Kenny in a friendly handshake. For being as uptight and anal as he has been with other people, you couldn't tell a difference between this Kyle and the old one from the way he's smiling at our old friend. Maybe he suspects that Kenny is here for a reason. Either way, Kenny ropes him into a hug, and though Kyle embraces him, his eyes are glued on me. He looks me up and down as I rise to my feet. But I can't tell if he's checking me out or figuring me out. Either way, I smile at him.

He smiles back before pulling away and turning his attention to Kenny. "How long have you been here? I hope not long."

"Not long at all," Kenny confirms. "Stan and I were just talking about how you two seem to be…" he quickly glances my way before he ends the sentence, "getting a long." I hope he saw the threatening glare I was sending.

To my relief, Kyle chuckles. "You could say that." He looks at me again before saying, "you could definitely say that."

"Alright and lets break from the obvious gay innuendo's," Kenny says dryly as he glances back and forth at us. "Stan, I left my bag in my car." He reaches in his coat pocket, extracting his keys and tossing them to me. "If you could be a gentlemen and haul it up here for me."

I glare at him, and then at Kyle, when I hear him stifling a laugh. "Why didn't you bring it up here with you?"

"Didn't think to. I was far too excited to see you," he gives me a light smile.

"You are so full of it," I growl out. But Kenny's used to my personality, just like I am of his. I shouldn't be surprised. "Fine, this time only though. I'm not your damn butler." I turn to Kyle and see that there's still an amused expression on his face. "And stop holding in your laughter. You're only encouraging him," I grumble as I make my way out of the room.

There's light laughter once I've left the room, which only makes me scowl. I have half a mind to grab Kenny's things and toss them in the recycling bucket on the main floor.

When I think I've gotten far enough away from their laughter I hear Ken's distinct laugh stop abruptly. "Sit down Kyle," I hear him mutter in one of his few serious tones.

Now I get it. He wants me out so he can give Kyle the third degree. Knowing his plan causes my anger to fade, and now I'm half amused, half curious. I can't imagine Kenny doing that. Not that I blame him with the way Kyle is. I should've known that he'd want to question him without me there to butt in.

I wonder what he'll ask him. And how Kyle will answer. I'm tempted to just stand by the door and listen in, ninja style. But, knowing both Kenny _and_ Kyle, they'll sense my presence and open the door only for me to fall flat on my face. I think I'll pass up that opportunity.

Instead, I head in the direction of the main stairwell. Peering into the room of my neighbors, I acknowledge them with a nod of my head. They send a friendly smile and a wave back before chatting about something in whispers. Not that I feel paranoid or anything, but I notice that their eyes don't look away from me even after they've started talking. I have no idea what they could possibly be talking about. Unless they too are HHS members.

"Stan!" I hear someone call my name, and I spin around to discover Jason jogging over toward me. He must've come up the back stairwell, but to see me?

I raise my eyebrows and wait for him to catch up and explain why he called out to me.

"Where are you off to, buddy?" he asks calmly, placing his hand on my shoulder.

I glare at him. "I am _not_ your buddy."

"Come, I'll walk you out," he continues, guiding me out to where I was going anyways.

"Didn't you just come in?"

He chuckles, though I'm not sure why. "I was taking a shortcut. Here," he instructs, moving ahead of me and opening the door. Gesturing for me to pass him, he keeps it propped open with a sturdy arm until I'm heading down the stairs.

I hate this kind of treatment. He doesn't need to suck up to me, it's not going to do any good. I can see straight through him. "You better wipe your nose, you've got a little brown right there," I say, pointing.

"You're such a kidder." I make sure to skip every other step so I'm ahead of him, but he echoes my actions so he remains at my side. "Kyle told me you have a friend staying here tonight?"

I eye him curiously. "What's it to you." As I step onto the main floor, he does the same thing with the door again. This time I mumble a 'thanks' before heading on my way.

"I'd just like to meet him, that's all."

My head whips over to him and I narrow my eyes. "Why?"

Jason laughs and holds up his hands in mock defense, "I'm just curious. He's a friend of yours AND Kyle's, I want to see what kind of guy he's like."

I don't like this. I don't want him to meet Kenny, I don't want any HHS members to meet Kenny. What would they think of him? Kenny's so brash, yet mostly extraordinarily observant…no, I don't want them to meet him. At the same time there's no way he won't. That'd be impossible. Some of them must have seen him walk up to my room, and they'll see him at meals and such, unless I plan to keep him locked in my room.

"You probably wouldn't like him," I respond as I head out toward the parking lot. I almost laugh at the sight of Ken's beat up "car". It's a complete eye sore to the rest of the cars around it.

"I'm sure I…" Jason trails off as I start to unlock Kenny's car to grab his small duffel. "I didn't know you had a car."

"It's my friend's."

He eyes it distrustfully, "does it work properly?"

At this, I can't help but laugh as I close the door. "That's a question that I can barely answer. It runs, if that's what you mean. But that's about it."

"And is…where's the glove compartment?"

"Kenny doesn't have those high classed things in his car," I chuckle and Jason joins me as we start to head back into the dorm building. It's when I'm inside that I've realized I felt…comfortable around Jason, and that we were sorta getting…chummy. I wipe all amusement from my face as I head for the stairs. "Well, see you."

"Wait, Stan," he says, almost with a hint of desperation. But I'm probably wrong in hearing that. "Can't I meet your friend?"

I want to say no, I'm completely prepared to say no, but another idea pops in my head. "We're hanging out with Austin right now." It's a lie, but its not as if I couldn't drag Austin's ass to my room if I needed too…and then of course I'd have to deal with Kyle…but never mind that. The look on Jason's face says he's no longer interested in meeting Kenny anymore anyway.

"…later then, when Austin isn't around?"

"Nope, I imagine we'll be hanging out with Austin the entire time Kenny's here. Those two really hit things off when they met a few weeks ago."

"Did they?" Jason frowns, and as he does so, my idea starts to expand.

"Yeah, it was instant, they were practically drawn toward each other." Another lie, but Jason doesn't know that either.

"I see," he mumbles. His eyes are searching for a way out, so I'll give him one.

"You're okay with that, right? If not, I'm sure Austin wouldn't mind if you stopped in for a bit." I bite my lip at that one—how am I getting so good at lying? That's not a good quality!

"Any friend of Austin's isn't a friend of mine," he states bluntly and clearly. "Good day, Stan." At this, he takes his leave, walking out of Windermere and over toward the quad. I'm not sure if he really needed to go there or if he just wanted to get as far away from the name Austin as possible.

He's really going to be a challenge, but I saw it in his eyes when I told him of Kenny and Austin's bond. He misses the guy. There's a part of Danny in there somewhere, just like I know there's a piece of Kyle hiding within. Maybe having Kenny around will bring it to surface. Heading over to the main stairwell, I begin my ascent once again. I fly up the stories and end up in front of our room in the blink of an eye. I lower my hand to the doorknob and pause all movements.

These walls aren't that thick at all. My ninja plan of before isn't hard to execute, cause I can hear my two best friends as though the door was open. Carefully, I press my ear against the thin sheet of wood and hold my breath.

I hear their voices clearly. "I do, Kenny. And I will," Kyle replies to whatever Ken asked him.

"Good. Cause I didn't let him come here just so he could STAND OUTSIDE THE ROOM AND FAIL MISERABLY AT BEING SNEAKY," Kenny shouts, and two seconds later, the door is open and he's grinning at me.

How does he do that!?

"I'll take this," he continues, yanking his bag from my grasp. He winks at me before turning and heading back over to my bed. "Boy, I'll tell you, Kyle. Some people just have _no_ respect."

Kyle laughs warmly, and for the first time, I see him relaxed. He looks at ease. I think inviting Kenny might've been just the ticket to releasing him from the HHS.

I should have realized that earlier. Ken may have the ability to rub people the wrong way at first, but he's always been good about calming people the more they get to know him. It's just who he is.

"I know you were talking about me, and if it concerns me I have every right to know what the conversation was about," I say, crossing my arms.

Kenny snorts, "it was nothing special, I was merely suggesting to Kyle that if he did anything to upset you, I might have to blow out his brains." Kenny smiles almost fondly at Kyle. "Isn't that right?"

"That's more or less how the conversation went. There might have been some other things discussed, but that's what sticks in my mind the most," Kyle responds with a smirk.

My face reddens, "what are you, my mother?" I murmur as I take a seat on my desk.

"No, but please make sure I'm around when you inform her of all this. Anyway-" He grins at me, as that small realization occurs. "Where am I sleeping?" He's looking around at the floor. "What's this floor made out of anyway, cement?" he asks, tapping it with his foot and studying it closely.

"Hm, it's probably not very comfortable," Kyle adds thoughtfully. "I guess you can have Stan's bed."

"And where will I sleep?" I question curiously, distrusting the spark in his eye.

"In my bed."

"And you?"

"In my bed."

Can't say I'm completely against his idea, and I'm about to tell Kenny that should work out fine when I catch his face. He seems to have paled slightly, and while he's looking somewhat amused, he's also looking equally disgusted.

"I'm sure the floor will work wonders for my back," he says flatly.

"If you want. Then you can be on the floor and Stan and I can sleep in my bed."

"I see a pattern here…" Kenny mutters with his eyes pointing downwards.

I wave the thought away with my hand. "Dude, we've got a few hours until we have to worry about this situation anyway. Who's hungry?" I am desperate to change the subject. I can't remember the last time Kenny's been this silent.

"What if I just camp out in ole' Bertha? It's not like I haven't done it before," he suggests.

"What? No!" I reject that idea immediately. "I won't have my guest sleeping in his car like some poor homeless guy."

Kyle shrugs. "I really don't see the problem here."

Kenny throws his hands up. "Can't you two pause the libidos for _one_ measly night for the sake of your best friend's sanity? I love you guys, but I'm not _in_ lo-"

"You are sleeping on a bed, Ken. That's final," I declare.

"And where will we find this magical third bed that isn't a floor and doesn't involve you two getting freaky in front of me?" he asks curiously.

I feel my blush intensify. Even if Kyle and I WERE to sleep in the same bed, I'd never do that to my friend. But Ky seems pretty dead set on us together. And, like I said, I've got no problems with that. "You can bunk with Austin."

"No," Kyle states.

"Why not? He's got a spare." I turn to Kenny. "Trust me dude. I stayed in it for a few weeks while…" I spy Kyle glaring at me, and I decide it best NOT to finish that sentence. Kenny knows the story anyway.

"He is not staying with Austin, Stan," Kyle tells me. His voice is bitter and dried up, much like it is every time we disagree over our choice of friends. I'm sure Kenny has noticed it too. It doesn't take very long to figure out that Kyle's different. And Kenny's the king of nonverbal communication. Christ, he knew about Ky and I before I even opened my mouth. He can sense these things.

"Would you rather him sleep in the streets, Kyle?" I retort, mildly pissed that he's being so stubborn.

He turns to Kenny. "I told you where you can sleep."

Ken makes a face. "And I told you I'm not going for that. Even if Stan slept in his bed, I'm still out one." He turns to me, "shouldn't we inform Austin I'm bunking with him before we decide?"

"You're NOT sleeping with Austin!" Kyle barks, and I watch Kenny slowly turn his head to look back at him.

"I don't plan to," Kenny raises an eyebrow, and I sigh. Not just for the lame response, but for the fact that we've already wasted a huge amount of time arguing about sleeping arrangements.

"FINE!" I practically shout. "Kyle, I will sleep over at Austin's since it bugs you so much that Kenny is, and Ken, you can sleep in my bed here with Kyle."

"That's even worse," Kyle growls out.

I narrow my eyes at him. "You have two options here, Kyle. I'm at Austin's or Kenny is, those are your choices, there aren't any more." Watching Kyle's inner battle might be slightly funny if I wasn't completely frustrated.

"Fine," he finally agrees, grinding his teeth.

I smile triumphantly before turning to Kenny. I feel like this is one of few battles I've won with Kyle. "Cool, lets go have dinner and then we can tell Austin about his temporary roommate."

He agrees, as does Kyle, though reluctantly. He's just a little put off I think about not having his way. Well tough.

For once, dinner is normal. Good conversation, good food, and very little dramatics. Kenny draws attention to himself, naturally, for just being Kenny and for being an obvious outsider. I never really noticed, but he stands out a lot in a crowd of mostly over-conservative guys. They're easily drawn toward him, and he plays it off like he doesn't notice it. If he'd been born a girl…well, never mind. He wasn't.

"I'll be back in a second," I say to Kyle. We've left the mess hall and are currently standing in the stairwell. Kenny and I have just grabbed his bag and now we're on our way to Austin to let him know what's going on. Of course Kyle doesn't want to go, not that I offered.

"Don't dawdle," he says dully before turning and heading for our room. "Night Kenny," he grumbles last minute.

"Night Kyle!" Kenny cheerfully calls back. "Ah," he lets out a long relaxed sigh. "Kyle sure is funny when he doesn't get his way. Was he pouting during dinner or was that my imagination?" He asks me as we make our way up the last flight to the next floor.

"He was pouting," I grin at him.

"I'd almost think you wore the pants in the relationship, but," he grins. "That can't possibly be the case. Which room is Austin's?" He says as he walks into the hallway of floor 4, leaving me with a twitching eye. I don't answer him, so he starts looking in every room that is open, and knocking on every door that is closed. "Austin? AUSTIN!" he calls out, and even though it's only been a few seconds, he's managed to piss off at least five or six separate rooms with his racket.

"It's two more to the left!" I hiss, feeling apologetic to the guys who want peace and quiet.

Kenny makes it there with his banging everywhere technique before I finish my sentence, and Austin opens up almost immediately to the sound of his name being called for the seventh time consecutively.

"Kenny, right?" he asks, standing somewhere between his room and the hallway. His eyes drift my way, and I smile at him.

"I've got a mild favor to ask…"

"Hey roomie!" Kenny greets, resting his arm around Austin's shoulders and whispering something in his ear. I didn't hear it, but whatever it is has caused Austin to stare at me disapprovingly. And by this time, Ken's pushed his way inside the room and let out a loud sigh, probably setting up camp. Food re-energizes him, and he probably got more than what he's used to at dinner. He'll be a handful tonight.

I'll owe Austin big. I carefully slide up beside him. "I know I should've warned you."

"Not a problem, Stan. Get your marital problems figured out though," he responds, patting me on the back twice with a sympathetic expression. "See you in the morning." And like that, he shuts the door on my face. I'd almost say that's rude, but I don't have time to care. Instead, I take the hint and head back to my own room, where I'm sure to get an ear full of my unacceptable behavior.

"What took you so long?" Kyle asks as soon as our door swings open.

I close it behind me and walk over to my desk, pulling off my coat. Kyle saunters over to me and instantly, I feel two extra hands assisting me in the removal of my winter gear. I twist my neck around and meet his lips. He swiftly drops the jacket to the floor before spinning me around and embracing me. I must say I'm quite pleased with the Kenny-effect on my boyfriend. Other than that tiff, he hasn't raised his voice to scold me for a single thing. Maybe the winds of change are picking up…

"Get dressed," he orders me, reaching up and pulling on the front of my T-shirt. "Better yet, get undressed."

I can't hide my grin. Really I have no choice but to comply. As I peel off my shirt, he pushes me against my desk, discarding the chair from his way. "It's still early," I improvise, unsure of why I'm doing so. He's devouring me with his eyes again though and I always feel slightly uncomfortable with that. Uncomfortable in a lightheaded, dreamy sort of way.

"Then we have time," he replies, smashing his hungry body against mine.

"What do you wanna do?" I ask dumbly. I think I know the answer to my own question.

He grins mischievously in response before attacking my lips with a bloodthirsty passion.

Yeah, it's probably best that Kenny slept somewhere else. Something tells me this is going to be a long night.

-

I yawn and scratch my hair before slowly rising out of bed. I fumble around for my clothes, and as I dress, I cast Kyle a look. He's still passed out, and for the time being, I think that's best. While I would much rather be asleep, tucked warmly in his arms, I had the craziest dream last night and oddly enough I've woken up with a craving for coffee of all things.

We don't have a maker in our room, so I'll have to go down to the lounge to grab something. Sweats on, and sneakers tied, I quietly slip out and head for downstairs.

Christ, this is earlier than I've woken in a long time, and I thought for sure I'd be dead to the world today of all days. But dreams will be dreams, and cravings will be cravings. Padding softly through the hallway and down the stairs, I yawn again and run my hand through my hair as I approach the deserted lounge.

It's a nice set up they've got. Just a few tables and chairs with a small TV, some magazines, a cappuccino maker, and a basic coffee maker for those of us that can barely spell cappuccino. The school even provides the grounds and a few decent choices. I pick hazelnut and stand back to watch the coffee appear. When it's done, I curse to myself when I remember I left mugs in the room. That's the only downfall—they don't provide cups. Not even paper ones.

"I love being of help so early in the morning."

I turn around and see Kenny and Austin walking in. They're each holding a mug and Austin drearily sits down holding out his mug wordlessly. Kenny takes it and I watch him fill up both of them. He passes Austin his cup before letting me take a long sip of his first.

"Thanks," I say.

"Sure thing."

There's a moment of silence as we all drink, and as Kenny and I pass ours back and forth. It's quickly refilled before a word is spoken.

"Why are you both up so early?" I ask.

"Because someone," Austin growls out, "believed he felt his Stan-dar go off."

I roll my eyes. Only Kenny. He laughs but he's nodding. "But I was right."

"And why are you so grumpy?" I question at Austin. "Not just for that?"

"No, we didn't get much sleep. We were up all night thinking about how to…" he pauses as he glances around, his eyes suddenly alert. "Deal with Kyle's situation."

I can feel my eyes light up, "think of anything?"

"Yeah," Kenny grins. "And don't worry, its completely realistic and doable." He suddenly frowns at me from where I'm standing. "Don't you want to sit down?"

"I'm fine."

He suddenly grins slyly, "what? Ass hurt?"

"…Actually…" I begin.

Kenny forms his hand into a stop sign. "No need for details, dude. My ears are sensitive. I could hear the floor boards squeaking last night."

I scratch my backside and grin, opting to take a seat after all. Taking another sip, I frown. "Kenny, you were a floor above us. And five doors down."

"And you didn't deny it _again_. Damn, Stan." He shakes his head at me before turning to Austin. "So, should we tell him of our plans?"

"Not here," Austin says back right away. "Too much potential for a passerby."

Kenny squints his eyes and darts them around the room. "Everyone's a suspect. Trust no one."

I laugh out loud. "Kenny, you're an idiot."

He forces a frown and holds out his hand. "And to think I was nice enough to share my beverage with you."

"Guys!" Austin cries irritably. He never was a great morning person. He's even worse when he was sleep-deprived. I liked to make fun of him when he was at that stage. He'd curse at me and attempt to intimidate me with an evil eye. It never worked. "It's too early for this and I have a migraine the size of North Dakota. Can we talk later?"

I shake my head. "No. Kyle's still sleeping, that gives us free time."

"You wore him out. What a good little bitch you are," Kenny replies.

"HEY!" I yell defensively. "I agree with Austin, let's talk later."

"But you just sa-"

"Will you two cut it out?" Austin growls. He looks at me. "Stan, go back to your boyfriend. We'll fill you in later."

"Don't say it like you want to get rid of me, and why don't we just go over it now? It's early, no one is going to be up at this time."

"We are," Austin points out before he grabs the mug and pours himself another cupful. "I'm going back to bed. If you two want to risk getting caught, that's your deal. I, on the other hand would rather sleep." He raises his mug toward us before heading out.

Kenny watches him go before turning back to me. "Unlike him, I can't wait."

"Glad we're on the same page Ken. So, tell me, what did you guys decide on?"

"It's simple really," Kenny's face suddenly gets serious, and like always, my attention is pulled in that much more. "We-"

"You two could at the very least close the damn door!" Austin's voice suddenly pipes up. Both Kenny and I jump as we turn to look at him.

"I thought you were going back to sleep!" I cry out, trying to calm my nerves. He scared the crap out of me.

"I was before I realized you two hadn't even closed the door! Jeez…" He groans. With a glance at the heavens dripping with pure annoyance, Austin walks back in and shuts the door. Taking the place he sat at before again. "Clearly you two can't watch out for yourselves," he says in way of explanation.

Kenny smirks, "get over it. You want to be around to tell Stan our brilliant idea as much as I do."

Austin makes some sort of noise before Kenny looks back at me, eyes twinkling. "So, the idea; Kyle's always disappearing at night right, driving you insane?"

"Yeah…" I glance at Austin, but he's looking at Kenny.

"Why don't you do the exact same thing to him?"

"Huh?" I respond, not sure I follow.

"Why don't _you_ join some obscure club and then disappear on him?" Austin answers me.

"Yeah, and YOU can be the one who keeps secrets from him!" Kenny adds.

I stare at them blankly before raising a brow. "That's your master plan?"

They exchange sour expressions before revealing more of their idea. "Don't you think Kyle would get mildly suspicious about where you're going and want to know about it?" Austin inquires.

"In theory…yes."

"And, lets face it, Stan. He's becoming a big control freak like his mom," Kenny decides. "He'd go crazy not knowing where you are. Maybe even enough to distract his own life and activities."

"The HHS might not be as important to him if there was a similar club out there that you were part of," Austin finishes. "Besides, he would be pissed off that you didn't join HIS cult rather than whatever you did join."

"And that would make him quit the HHS how?" I pose, entertained by their scheme, but not quite buying it.

"By giving him a dose of his own medicine," Austin explains. "You'd have the upper hand. You could call the shots. He'd want to know where you're at all times, and the only way he _could_ know would be if you were to quit."

"And you wouldn't quit unless he would!" Kenny finishes spiritedly.

I pause to mull this over. That COULD make sense. They're right about one thing—Kyle is damn possessive. If he knew I was somewhere that he wasn't, and it was against his own wishes, he might be willing to sacrifice something to keep me here. He already told me we're going to be together forever. Which, yeah, is kinda creepy, but I wouldn't mind the sentence. Still, there has to be more to this. It can't be that easy. What kind of club could I join anyway? I don't know of anything like the HHS anywhere!

"What club though?" I question my concerns out load. "The HHS is the only club in JV of it's kind. Where exactly would I be sneaking off too?" I glance at Austin. "Your room?"

He shakes his head, "no way, that'd be too easy to track. It doesn't have to be a club exactly. The point is for you to be "sneaking off" somewhere and not telling him. It's more about leaving Kyle in the dark, like he's left you. And Kenny and I figure," he glances at Ken who nods encourages him, "that if this club is really going to get to Kyle, it'd be best if I was a member too. We can slink off together."

"But where are we going?" I press, looking at them both.

"You know Constance Hall?" Austin asks.

"Yeah, it's like the random mix of major's department building. It's where they house psych right?"

"Right, the back door where the janitors enter is ALWAYS unlocked. It's a wonder nothing's ever been stolen, anyway we can hang out in one of the empty classrooms for a few hours"

"That's it?" I ask doubtfully.

Kenny rolls his eyes, "we already told you its not about where you go, but the fact that you're not informing your significant other. You'll have to do a bit of acting though. You know, pretend like you can't mention things. Pretend to make fake eye contact with people behind Kyle's back, tense at certain words, that sort of thing. Its _you_ who has to sell this plan, Stan."

"But what if it doesn't work? I mean, I'm sure it'll tick Kyle off, and get him jealous but…" I hesitate. "He's really attached to the HHS, do you think this is enough to make him want to make a choice of me or them? Because that's the underlying idea isn't it?"

Kenny and Austin glance at each other, and I watch as both their faces scrunch up in concern. "That is the idea," Austin answers.

"And it's a good idea," Kenny finishes. "After all, WE thought of it," I see the two of them grin at each other in mutual camaraderie. I feel a small pang at watching them. It only took one night and they're already tight friends. They're the ones who thought of this plan, I did nothing to help…all I have to do is do what they've said.

"It's gonna work Stan," Ken turns back to face me all smiles. "And if it doesn't…" He must see my face fall because he doesn't finish the sentence. "It will, and besides you've got Austin as your companion in crime, and even though I have to go home, I'll be rooting, so stop looking so gloomy."

"You'll still be with us, Ken," Austin remarks caringly to my friend. "And you're welcome to stay in my room as long as you'd like. I like having a roommate," he adds, and I glare at him. He seemed awfully annoyed when _I_ was around. Matter of fact, if I recall correctly, he was more than happy kicking me out. And here I thought it was because he was a loner. Someone who didn't like sharing his space because it was HIS space. How wrong I'd been.

"Aw that's so sweet," Kenny coos, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "If it weren't for that pesky need to get an education, I might take you up on that offer. Permanently."

Austin smiles to himself and wraps his hands around his coffee mug. Staring into the liquid, he announces, "okay, now I really _am_ heading back to my room." He lifts himself out of the chair and wanders over to the door. "You coming?" he asks, speaking directly to Kenny.

Kenny stutters, visibly able to see the irritation in my face. "Uh…I'll catch up to you later. I need to have a man-to-man chat with my buddy here," he tells him as an excuse, leaning over and patting me on the knee. I growl at the father/son treatment he's giving me. Austin smiles back over to us and says his goodbyes before exiting the room for real.

Kenny leans back in his chair and looks over at me, as though he's gauging my reaction. I hate it when he does that. It's that damn perception of his again.

"What?" I ask innocently.

He narrows his eyes, trying to figure me out. "You're jealous."

"What?!" I cry incredulously. "You're delusional, Ken. I think Austin had the right idea to back upstairs," I say and start to stand.

Kenny halts me by suddenly sitting up and bracing my leg with his hand. "Stay." As if he's my master, I obey his command and lean back again. "Just cause Austin and I are buddies is no reason for you to get all PMS-y with us. Take some Midol and get over yourself."

"I'm not…PMS-y!" My defense is weak and I know it. I can't win against the guy who can see through me.

Kenny snorts. "So tell me, what do you plan to do for his situation?"

I blink twice. "Austin's situation? What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. Danny. How are we gonna get him out too?" Austin must've told Kenny about Danny. "You know, he may pretend not to still care about the guy, but I know that's a lie and so do you. So, how do you plan to help HIM out?"

"He's already told me more than once that Jason-"

"Jason?" Kenny interrupts.

"The dude's name is Jason Daniel. Austin called him Danny, and the HHS knows him as Jason. I guess its definite proof of his change in personality. Anyway, Austin has already told me that the guy is a hopeless case."

"Hmm," Kenny looks thoughtful. "Have you met him?"

"Loads of times."

"And what do you think, does it seem as hopeless as Austin makes it out to be?"

"Well…" I think of Jason's personality. At times he seems fake, and he did lock me in a stairway, but…I really would have befriended him if he weren't HHS. "I don't think so."

"Then do your friend a favor and get his best friend back…just like we're getting yours."

I know it pained Kenny to call Kyle that, and any resentment I had toward him about Austin fades as quickly as it came.

"But how?" I press. "Jason HATES Austin. You haven't seen the guys face at the mere mention of his former friend's name. How can I possibly get them back together? What can I do, lock them in an empty classroom and threaten to leave them there unless they talk out their differences?!" I throw my hands up in the air hopelessly as I toss my distressed look at Kenny.

He grabs his coffee mug, which is still a quarter of the way full, and smiles before patting me on the shoulder, "I knew you'd think of something. Be sure to let me know how it goes," he says as he leaves through the door.

See how it goes? As in, _that_ is a solid plan of attack?

…Could I ever be stealthy enough to pull it off? My thoughts drift to how I might be able to make it all happen. After some intense deliberation, I tell myself that I CAN make it happen and am the last one to exit the lounge and climb back up the stairs. It's still early enough that I doubt Kyle will even have realized I'm gone.

Sure enough, when I crack open our door, I notice he hasn't even switched positions. Instead of draping his arm over me, it's simply hugging the bed. I smile warmly before closing and locking the door, removing my clothes, and crawling back into bed. I pull the sheet back to expose him and slide right next to his beautiful body. Carefully lifting his arm and pulling it over me once again, I settle back into my original position. I close my eyes and relish in the warmth of our bodies.

"That was a disturbingly long bathroom break," he mumbles without even moving a muscle.

Opening my eyes, I reply honestly. "I needed coffee."

"Hmm," he responds, drifting back into sleep. Just before, he pulls me in closer to him.

I feel a smile take over my face and shut my eyes once again. Now that I have him, I can't imagine my life any other way. I'll try just about anything to keep him by my side. Even if that means deceiving him the way he's been deceiving me. I'm not sure if I'll be able to act as aloof and secretive as he can, but I can motivate myself to be the best damn actor in this school. I'll let him see how it feels. I'll be rude. I'll be reclusive. I feel his soft and steady breaths on the back of my neck.

…I'll start after breakfast.

**-i**_**BB**_ and _**f **_**G**


	13. XII The Execution

**The Reformation of Kyle Broflovski**

**XII. **The Execution

"Time to open your eyes, Stan."

Did I just hear my name? I think I did, but this bed is so warm and Kyle is so…

"Wake. Up."

I stretch my body out only to find that Kyle isn't there beside me. I frown and squirm a little bit more, pulling the sheets all to myself. I snuggle in the cotton fabric and ignore that voice in my head working as my internal alarm clock.

"If you don't acknowledge me soon, I'm going to eat this breakfast that I brought you all by myself," the voice warns me.

_That_ gets my attention. I crack open an eye and see Kyle staring down at me impatiently. He's sitting on his desk chair that he pulled right up next to the bed. In his lap is a tray with a plate of waffles, a few pieces of toast and a glass of orange juice. I blink a few times, making sure this isn't a dream, before sitting up in the bed. My eyes concentrate on the plate of food.

"You looked so peaceful I didn't want to wake you," he tells me, as if he needs to explain this amazingly unbelievable gesture.

My vision drifts upwards to look at his face. "You brought me breakfast in bed?" This doesn't really fit in with his whole assholish attitude. Why the sudden change? I know I'm awesome, but damn. Guess I don't know the extent of my own greatness.

"You make it sound so cheesy," he complains. "Besides, I woke up because of _your_ stomach. It's not like I had a choice."

"Kyle," I begin, overcome with emotion. How sweet! How thoughtful! How uncharacteristic!

Wait a minute. I need to think this through. Now would be the perfect time to execute "the plan." I have a chance to be cold and uncaring, just like he…usually is. But he's acting so cute! Maybe I can wait this one out and he'll go willingly-

"Aren't you going to eat? It's getting cold." Something about how he said that strikes a chord in me, and I decide I can try out this idea after all.

"Where's my coffee." I ask disgruntled. I use the tone that makes him think I expected him to get it.

He stares at me. "You already had it this morning. Remember?"

"I did?" I second-guess him, fighting back a grin. Of course I remember.

He narrows his eyes. "That's what you said."

"Oh, that's right," I play along. "I did have some earlier."

Kyle's eyes have yet to go back to their normal size. But rather than mention anything of it, I reach out for my tray filled with food, almost falling out of the bed when he retracts it, and himself, from my reach.

"Um, what gives?" I ask once I've gathered myself. "The food seems to be going in the opposite direction of my mouth…same goes for you," I can't help but add.

Unfortunately he doesn't look amused. Not that I thought he would. The distrust in Kyle's narrowed eyes is starting to seep through as his thoughts wander. "If you had been going to get coffee, that WAS an awfully long coffee run," he finally says. Kenny and Austin were right. Kyle's natural suspicions are going to be so easy to work on.

"I did have to make it," I point out.

He's starting to look thoughtful before he makes a 'hmm' noise. "That's true," he relents and sets the tray down beside me. "So I thought you, Kenny, and I could drive his quote in quote car into town today. There isn't much to do on campus during a Saturday."

"Mm, sounds good," I say as I begin taking bites of food into my mouth.

"And I heard there was going to be a house party a few blocks away later on tonight," I watch as Kyle grins. "Girls have been invited, a good number of them, so Kenny should be happy."

I laugh at the thought before allowing it to fade as if I've remembered something. "Oh, um," I stuff some waffles in my mouth as I try to think of something. "Actually, why don't you and Kenny go alone?"

"Why would we do that?" He asks, his voice flat. "I'm not going to a girl-infested party with Kenny without you."

"Well…you and Ken…need to spend more time together. You've hardly seen him since he's been here."

"It's been one night, and that's because you made me agree to let him stay with your buddy Austin, remember?" He's getting angry, and that's good. I cannot believe I'm thinking that's a good thing.

"Yes but, the guy really misses you." I'm sure he does. Maybe not as much as he misses me…and he's never actually confessed to missing Kyle…but that's beside the point.

"I see," Kyle slowly stands. "Well, Mill is going to be there, and I've wanted them to meet. I've got a feeling they'll get along really well."

I stifle a laugh. Somehow that seems unlikely. "Well that sounds like a good plan then. You three have fun."

Kyle doesn't like this. He doesn't like it all. To demonstrate this, he reaches down and snatches up one of my pieces of toast for himself. "What are you going to do without me?" I love how he says 'without me' and not 'instead'. It's all about him. This couldn't be working any better. Soon I'll be having him eat out of the palm of my hand.

"Stan I asked you a question."

I pause eating and pretend to perk up my ears. "What? Oh, don't worry about me."

"What is so important you can't go out with me on our first Saturday night together?" He almost sounds hurt, but I think its more about the controlling factor than it is about us being together.

Quick to think on my feet, I remember that when he didn't want to answer a question of mine, he'd abruptly change subjects. I set the food down to my side and wipe my mouth with the napkin he folded and set next to the plate. He's still staring at me, waiting for me to respond. I smile at him. "You look hot in that sweatshirt." I stand up and reach out to the hood, but he slaps my hand away.

"Don't change the subject."

"This was such a pleasant surprise, Kyle. Really. I don't know how to thank you," I continue, leaning in and puckering up. Again, he leans away.

"Brush your teeth before you kiss me," he grumbles. I'm outwardly stable, but inside I'm screaming. Since when did that become a stipulation? What am I doing? Is this really going to work?

"If that's the case then I might as well finish my food first," I mutter and get back to it. "And if you were going to bring me breakfast, the least you could do was add in some sort of meat…what is this, a non-protein diet?" I know I'm being pissy, and at the sound of Kyle storming out of the room he agrees.

Dammit!

Quickly setting my tray aside, I dive toward my desk for my cell phone and punch in Kenny's number.

"What?" he says lazily into the phone.

"Busy?" I rush out, glancing at the door and being sure to pay extra attention to the sound of any angry feet headed back toward it.

"Horribly," he responds in the same tone.

"Kyle is pissed at me."

"And?"

"And you're plan isn't working! I don't want him to be mad at me!"

"Oh Stan," he sighs and I can hear him shuffle around as if he's prepared to give me a long lecture. "Kyle around?"

"No he stormed out because he's pissed!"

"…Right, well whatever he's pissed about, you're going to have to ignore it. He's going to get mad at you during this whole thing; I thought that would be obvious. You have to be him, so what would he do if the roles were reversed?"

I think about that and give my thanks to Kenny before mentioning the party to which he gives a whoop. Once we hang up, I bite my lip and calm myself back down. Ken's right. I'm going to have to deal with Kyle being cold around me like he used to be if this is going to work. I'm going to have to dish it right back, and not blink an eye when I do it.

Okay, my resolve is set again. No more shying away, because in the long run this is all for the best. I will have to remember that.

-

"Where are you off to now?" Kyle hisses at me, his eyes looking up at me though his head is poised for reading whatever book he's on this day. It's been almost a week since I set out to act like him, and I can't say that I'm having much luck. Or fun. Pushing him away is not making this a very pleasant living environment. I was re-introduced to my bed two days ago, and since then, he hasn't said much except to accuse me about whatever he feels like.

"Class," I reply honestly, my body halfway out the door. It's Thursday, and I have my physics lab in fifteen minutes. "I'll be back before dinner."

"Don't bother," he mutters. "I'm eating with Miller tonight."

My back is turned to him, but I'm sure he can see my shoulders slump. I hadn't meant for them to, but it seems that the only thing this experiment has accomplished is bringing those two closer together. I have to think of something drastic quickly…before I lose my boyfriend to that asshole.

I breathe in deeply and turn back around. "No. _I_ want to eat with you tonight."

He raises his eyebrows and glares at me. "And why should I give you a damn thing you want?" He angrily flips a page.

Mustering up my inner-strength, I hastily walk over to him, bend down, and kiss him on his tightened lips. "Because you want us to be together," I remind him. I stand up straight and head back out the door. "Be back a little after 6."

The wait through physics is horrible. How I'm not on some sort of academic probation, I don't understand, but I do know I'm teetering near the edge. It's just too hard to concentrate in any of my classes. I was barely able to before, and every time I go to another one, some other problem is raised in my head and I can't focus. Physics is no exception.

Throughout the lecture I keep thinking about Kyle and this plan. I keep thinking that it won't work, and that it'll have the opposite effect of what I want. That Kyle will end up as vice president or something and never speak to me again. And of course on top of that, he and Miller will be cozier. The very idea makes me shudder, and I'm more than happy when class is over.

I practically race back to the room, praying Kyle will be there and not out having dinner with that blonde prick.

Opening the door, I hold in my sigh of relief when I see Kyle watching some old rerun television show. "How was class?" He asks me though his face is still glued to the show. Whether or not he's really watching I can't tell, but the fact that he questioned me about class must mean we're on better terms.

"It was," I pause. "Okay." I slide my bag off my shoulder and abandon it on the floor. "Are you ready to go to dinner?" I ask carefully.

"I already ate", he answers sharply to the TV. "With Miller." Finally, he turns to look at me. I hope my face shows that I don't care, even though that couldn't be further from the truth. "It was seafood night, there was seafood from all over the world. It was really good."

"I'll bet it was," I mutter and drop head first on my bed, burrowing my head in my pillow. I can't believe he actually went without me. Did the last thing I told him before I left mean nothing to him? Do _I_ mean nothing to him? Sometimes I gotta wond-

"I brought you a few plates back. That should be enough, even for you," he states cutting into my inner dialogue. My head peeks up and Kyle nods his head in the direction of my desk where I somehow managed to miss three plates piled high with food covered in plastic wrap.

Well, I guess that's a start. I mean, he DID have plans, and you're not supposed to break plans. I wouldn't want him to do that to me, so maybe I'm looking too far into this. I express my thanks and drop off my books before I pick up the first round of my meal. Inspecting it, I notice he brought me a little bit of everything just so I could have a sample of it. The third plate, however, is entirely filled with shrimp—my favorite seafood. It has portions of coconut shrimp, fried shrimp, shrimp skewers, and even some shrimp scampi. I think I'll pick that one instead. This is such a thoughtful gesture, and I suddenly feel like shit again for treating him the way I have.

But that doesn't mean I can lighten up. If anything, I've got to dig deeper. I'd like to do it without pissing him off so much though. He's got the bi-polar personality down packed, and I don't even know how to act…uni…polar. I've got to try being more hot and cold. Lately, he's been hotter more often than not, but I can't forget those first weeks. Before we got together.

I decide to take my food and join him on his bed. Without a word, he scoots over to make room, but he doesn't break eye contact from his show. "What are you watching?" I ask curiously.

"Animal planet."

"What, are you looking for pointers?" I joke, stabbing some scampi with my fork.

He slowly twists his face over to me and half-smiles. He smiles. First one I've seen in days. "Just eat your food," he tells me.

I look down at my plate and over to my desk where the others are and laugh. "You brought enough food back to feed an army. Are you trying to tell me something?"

"You must be a one man army," he replies without missing a beat. I miss this banter so much that it tears my heart apart at what I have to do next. The mood between us now is so perfect, so incredibly perfect, that I need to break it. That's what Kyle used to do—somehow he'd turn a great moment into shit. I need to do that. I've got to think! I need to be mean, or maybe cold…something to ruin this moment. But I really don't have it in me to be cold toward him, or mean, although…I think I know how I can be cruel towards this gesture of his.

Stuffing a shrimp in my mouth, I leave the plate with Kyle and walk back over to my bag, fishing for my phone. "Mhm," I say as I chew. "This stuff is good."

"If it's so good, you should sit still and finish it…and stop talking with your mouth full," he adds last minute.

I wave away his response with a hand as I dial a number.

"Who're you calling?" He asks, and if I didn't know better, and I do, he sounds a little annoyed.

"Austin. He loves shrimp, maybe more than me and I'll bet he hasn't eaten yet. And I haven't sent the guy all day." I don't look to see what Kyle's response is. Instead I keep my eyes glued on a wall, and wait for him to pick up. "Hey dude!" I try to respond as cheerfully as I can manage. "You hungry?"

"No," He says into the phone.

"Great, well come on over. Kyle got me all this food and there's no way I can finish it all myself. We can probably get through it together though."

"Oh, I get you. I'll be over in a minute to collect your dead corpse." He hangs up, and I take a deep shallow breath before turning around.

Kyle's eyes are locked right on mine and they look dead. I don't know what I should say, so instead I plaster on a smile and plop right back down next to him.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" His voice is hard and dangerous.

"I…" Be brave Stan! I tell myself. "I'm hungry, but not that hungry. I realize you don't like the guy and that's fine, we can take the food back to his room so you two don't have to deal with each other."

"No you won't. That's YOUR food. I got it for you. If you invite your buddy Austin over to eat it, it stays in here," Kyle reasons.

I raise my eyebrows at him and snort. "You're mighty protective of your food."

At this remark he leans into me, grabbing me up at the neck of my shirt. "It's _your_ food," he snarls before leaning even further and kissing me forcefully. Before I get a chance to comprehend the situation, our lips break and he releases my shirt. I blink and watch him go back to his side, studying the TV again.

Blinking a few more times, I try to shake myself out of shock. I want to ask, 'what was that for', but I'm too baffled to speak.

He smirks. "Close your mouth before it starts to collect dust, Stan."

I nod and do as I'm told. This is crazy. He's on a whole other playing field. We're not even in the same league; I'm such an amateur. If I want this plan to work, I have to do something that, without a doubt, will leave HIM speechless. Something that will knock the wind out of him. Something that will make him question who I am and where _my_ loyalties lie.

I hear a knock on our door, saving me from another awkward silence over Kyle's victory. I glance over at Kyle—who's glaring at me—before standing back up and letting my guest in. "Hey man," I greet with a welcoming smile derived from pure nerves.

"Hey…Stan," he replies, his eyes roving over the room and settling on Kyle. He gives me a pleading look. "Are we-"

"Staying here? Yes, you are," Kyle speaks for me, and I turn and stare at him, surprised.

"Oh," Austin responds. "That's…wonderful."

He stands around awkwardly for a while before I remember myself. "Food!" I almost shout out. I head back to my place and sit down, choosing to ignore Kyle in favor of making Austin not seem so goddamn uncomfortable. I pat the spot beside me and almost jolt in surprise when both Kyle and Austin make a move toward me at the same time.

They glance at each other, scowl, and then glance at me. I eye them both, hardening my look when I get to Austin. He seems to get the point and takes the initiative at moving in the spot beside me.

"Thanks for being civil about this Ky," I say to Kyle as I push my plate of shrimp in front of Austin and I.

"Hey, this…actually looks pretty good," Austin says as he looks at the plate and meets my eyes. Part of me feels bad for him, and part of me wants to laugh at the absurdity of this situation.

"It is, isn't it? Kyle do you want some?" I ask twisting around and finding Kyle standing in the exact same spot that I left him.

"What part of 'I've already eaten' don't you understand?" He says in a low voice.

"I was only being polite. Even when I'm full, if there's someone eating in front of me, I'll still eat a few bites."

"We're not all gluttonous pigs like you," Austin says while rolling his eyes and taking a piece of fried shrimp.

I laugh and he quickly joins in, and soon enough, we're on the topic of my eating behaviors. "I don't know why I'm always so willing to eat," I say. He's asked me where it all comes from, but I don't honestly know. "Probably part of the jock diet I got used to in high school."

"Ugh, you would be a jock," he mutters.

"And let me guess, you were one of those kids that wore black everyday, even if it was like 100 degrees outside?"

Austin laughs again, "nah, but I didn't stand out in high school or anything. I didn't really need too, I had my circle of friends and they were good enough." He suddenly snorts. "And then I met Danny here and we-" He stops as soon as he starts and lowers his head down, halting in eating.

Oh crap. He's only just reminded me! I've been so involved in the whole Kyle thing—which by the way, he STILL hasn't moved a muscle from where he's standing—that I've forgotten all about my plan to get Austin and Jason back on their old terms. It must be tough not having him around. Out of concern for my friend, I naturally raise my arm and pull him into a side hug. Squeezing him just a bit, I swear his eyes pop out of his skull.

"You…you going to finish that?" he asks in a panic, pointing to the last butterfly shrimp.

I drop my hand. "It's yours."

From behind us, I hear Kyle sharply inhale. Immediately, I turn my attention to him. He would look calm to anyone else, but to me, I can see the anger fuming from inside. He's not moving at all—not his expression, not a twitch, not even a blink. I force a smile on my face to calm his rage.

He responds by clenching his jaw. He stares at me for what seems like an hour, and I dish it right back to him. The next thing I know, he's fleeing the scene as quickly as possible.

I jump up and run over, meeting him at the door. Just as he opens it, I slam it shut once more. "Please stay, Kyle," I beg.

He lifts his chin to look over me. "I have to be somewhere," he mutters.

His tone doesn't fool me. He's genuinely hurt. He thinks I'm putting the moves on Austin in front of him. He's insane, I would never to do that! Then again, this may not be such a bad thing. After all, he was quite content flirting with Miller in front of me. And Kenny and Austin DID say to give him a dose of his own medicine…

Still. I'm not playing fair. I can't fault him for being uncomfortable. He's amazed me with his restraint so far. It's my turn to return the favor. I wrap my hand around his arm and guide it back to his body. He retracts furiously.

"You shouldn't have to feel uncomfortable in your own room. Austin and I will take this to the lounge," I explain, letting him know it won't be in Austin's room. It'll be in neutral territory. And rather than waiting for him to respond, I wave my hand for Austin to bring the food with him and I step out to the hallway. Austin follows, nodding politely at Kyle, who can't stop looking at me. We walk away, food in tow, with the door wide open and Kyle staring out. I don't say another word until we safely conceal ourselves inside the lounge.

I take a deep breath before sitting down in the spot I grew familiar with the last time we were in there. Picking my fork back up, I reach for a shrimp. Without warning, Austin slaps my arm, causing me to drop my shrimp _and_ my fork onto the plate.

"HEY! What was that for?" I exclaim.

"For being an asshole to Kyle!" he replies.

I rub the assaulted area. "What? I was being thoughtless and cold! What you told me to be!"

"No, you were trying to piss him off by inviting his ENEMY—who just happens to be your friend—in HIS room to eat the food he brought YOU!" Austin corrects. I know I'm giving him a blank look because he sighs in aggravation. "Kyle was never aiming to piss you off when he acted—acts—like how he is. He was, IS, just being himself. You're supposed to be cold and distant with him, not trying to lose him all together."

"What are you talking about? This is exactly the kind of thing he did to me with Miller!"

"He flirted with Miller in front of you?" He asks, raising a critical eyebrow. "That doesn't sound like Kyle."

"What would you know?" I mutter annoyed. "You haven't seen them together nearly as much as I have. It's a disgusting sight the way that guy practically undresses Kyle with his lecher eyes."

Austin snorts, "yeah, especially when Kyle does the same."

"Kyle does not do that!" I suddenly yell out. I force myself to calm down at Austin's grave look.

"Exactly."

"Wha-" I start out confused, but get his drift even before I finish the word.

"Have you actually seen Kyle be anything other than polite to Miller, in the way friends tend to be toward one another?"

Now I feel like a moron. "No," I say in a low voice.

"And has Kyle ever returned any of Miller's obvious attraction?"

"Not that I know of." Austin gives me a hard look and I change my answer, "no."

"You need to remember that you're trying to be aloof toward the guy, secretive."

"Ergh!" I cry out. "This is too hard! How do I know when I'm being what?!"

He shakes his head, but doesn't give me an answer. "Couldn't tell you, and I know it's hard for you since you're not Kyle. You don't have his bi-polar personality, but for his sake and yours, you'd better try doing a better job than you've been doing." 

I drop my head into my hands and massage my temples, trying my best to stimulate some better ideas than the ones that obviously aren't working. Austin points at the shrimp, and I shake my head. Somehow, I've lost my appetite.

Shrugging, he pierces the remaining seafood and stuffs it into his mouth, not even bothering to chew with it closed. I sigh and lift my head up, watching him in disgust and desperation. "Help me," I plead.

He smacks his lips and smiles. "Does the big tough jock need a hug?"

I make a face and rest my elbows on my knees. "I need more than that."

"You're gonna have to ask Kyle for that, man."

"Austin!" I exclaim. "I _need_ a better plan!"

Austin leans over and pats me on the shoulder. "What you _need_ is to get better at the plan you've got," he corrects. "And I can help you with that. We haven't even pulled out the big stops. We still have to sneak out at midnight and make him think you're going to meet with your new club."

I stare at him blankly. "How can I possibly do that? I'm so nervous around him already. I hate upsetting him!"

"Well that's cause you were purposely trying to! You're not paying attention, Stan," Austin informs me. "And anyway, this should be an easy task because you get to sneak out when he's already asleep! No words need to exchanged, you just need to slip out noticeably unnoticeable." He smirks at his word play.

I frown. "Alright. Lets change the timing a little though. Midnight is so overrated."

"What, like 11:00?" Austin asks, hopeful that he'll get to do this earlier so he can sleep longer.

"Like…how about 1:30?"

"I like 11 better."

"Half of this campus will be up and running around at 11. Fuck, they might even be at 1:30!" I cradle my head in my hands again. "Fuck."

"Fine. 1:30 it is. But after this, you never get to disturb my slumber again," Austin informs. He smiles warmly at me and stands up, picking up two of the plates and stuffing them in the trash. "You best get yourself back to your boyfriend before he gets angry enough to change the locks."

"The obnoxious part is I wouldn't put it past Kyle to do that when he's pissed," I say dejectedly as I stand.

"Cheer up, he won't change the locks because he can't," Austin points out, though that does little to cheer me up.

"What should I do when Kyle and I meet up next? I sorta…ruined my "change in personality" by assuring him the two of us weren't doing anything."

Austin takes a moment to think before answering, "Why don't you be civil. Civil, but hostile? Kinda like you've realized your own mistake and are slightly embarrassed by it, but at the same time you don't appreciate Kyle's reaction either. Then, you go to sleep."

"Sleep?! It's like eight o'clock!"

"You have to be up early, don't you?"

I sigh at the idea of going to bed so early, but I guess he has a point. "Where are we meeting anyway, should we meet since I don't know the exact way?"

He nods, "why don't I meet you in your hallway. That way Kyle can overhear us talking and walking off together."

I nod, "okay. Ugh, I don't know how I'm going to wake myself up at one in the morning though. You at least can use an alarm clock."

"Obviously you're going to have to stay awake. Don't actually go to sleep."

I drop my jaw, "how the hell do you suggest I stay awake for FIVE HOURS without actually falling asleep?"

Austin shrugs as he starts heading for the doors. "Just don't, if you do you'll ruin the plan."

If I didn't know any better, I'd think I just saw a hint of a Kenny smile on his lips. I'd think he'd almost want me to suffer for a little bit…. I almost have a feeling that Austin and Kenny are talking a lot more than I know of. They must be for Austin to be finding amusement in my pain.

"Fine," I say once we've reached the third floor where we part. "I'll see you later on tonight."

"You know it," he says and continues to climb up to his floor. 

I yank open the heavy portal to my own floor and shuffle my feet until I'm standing in front of room 333. Taking a deep breath, I turn the doorknob and press my fingertips into the door. My head is bowed and my shoulders are tense, but my eyes zoom immediately to the boy sitting on my bed. Kyle looks up at me, acting surprised that I entered our domain.

"I didn't hear you coming," he says as an excuse. Apparently he feels that it's unacceptable to be sitting on my side of the room because he instantaneously springs off the bed and walks back over the confines of his space.

"Ky, it's okay," I mumble, but he's already busied himself with something from his desk. My shoulders fall and I feel instantly guilty. For everything. For acting like an asshole, for trying to make him jealous. For what I have yet to do to him. I just hope to God it works. Then I can go back to being with him without worrying whether he's going to change his mind.

I hesitantly walk over to him and crouch down beside him. I'm not sure he wants me to see what he's working on, but something tells me he's not really concentrating. Otherwise the book in front of him would be right side up. I do the honors and correct its direction, smiling.

He snorts and stands up, away from me. I straighten myself back up and follow him. Suddenly, he whips around to meet me, face-to-face. It's the position I'm all too familiar with. Some of my biggest (and fondest) memories began when we were standing like this. Only this time, there's no emotion in his eyes except for annoyance.

"What do you want," he barks.

"Kyle," I begin, linking my arm between his arm and his hip, but he jerks his body away. I sigh until there's no air left in me, collecting my thoughts. _You've been going about this all wrong, Stan! Be cold, not cruel. _"Thanks for the shrimp. I'm surprised you remembered it was my favorite."

He lets my armrest on his hip this time. Staring me down, as if trying to decipher my intention, he lifts his head. "You asked for a half-pound plate every time we ate at the Shuck-n-Shack as kids. How could I forget?"

"It was sweet of you," I continue. "And I shouldn't have shared it with Austin."

He sneers. "Of course you shouldn't have."

"Let's eat together tomorrow," I tell him, securing plans before that blonde creep can get his paws on him.

He smiles faintly before it falters. "I would…but I already have plans."

I drop my hands to my side, unable to hide the scowl that forms on my face. "Oh. Well I wouldn't want you to break them." I head to my side of the room and sit down on my bed. Dammit, Kyle always has plans; I'm supposed to be the one who's too busy with my "club".

"You're not going to ask what they are?" Kyle questions, staying where he is.

"I'm sure it's with Miller, or Jason, or some other HHS related business. Isn't it always?" I can hear the bitterness in my own voice, but I don't really care. "It doesn't matter. I probably wouldn't have been able to keep that date with you anyway." I run a hand through my hair, hoping he'll take my bait.

"…If you didn't think you could, why would you try to make them?"

"Probably because I like spending time with you. Anyway," I stand back up. "I know it's early, but I need to get some sleep. You can leave the light and TV on, they wont bother me."

"You're going to bed now?" Kyle is frowning at me.

"Busy day tomorrow."

"You have one class," he points out and I do my duty in trying to be him, by ignoring that statement.

"I'm going to get ready for bed," I tell him, and do so. I change and do the bathroom thing in the bathroom, rather than in the dorm room. When I come back in I'm surprised to see the main light off as well as the TV. Kyle's desk light is on, but that's it.

"I said you could leave everything on," I tell him as I put my things away.

"If you want to sleep, I don't want to distract you from doing so. I'm just going to do some homework before I head to sleep myself."

"Okay, whatever you want." I climb into my bed and try to think of soothing thoughts. Then I remember I'm not actually supposed to go to sleep. Damn Austin.

As I wrap myself in my covers and shift around for a comfortable spot, I get the feeling I'm being watched. "Yes?" I ask, though my head is facing away from Kyle. When he doesn't say anything I glance over at him. He's still sitting on his desk chair, but he's meeting my eye as he plays with a pen. He looks like he wants to say something, but he's not. He's just staring. "Yes?" I ask again, harder this time. He still doesn't answer me and in aggravation I turn back around and grumble to myself about people, staring, and how rude it is.

My ears perk at the sound of Kyle moving from his chair. I don't even tense when I feel his weight on my bed. I look up, seeing him hovering over me. "What?" I question.

"Nothing," he says and leans down to give me a slow kiss before retracting and heading back to his desk chair.

Every time I think I understand Kyle, I realize I don't. I'm not sure what that was for. It was appreciated, of course, but I don't understand it. It makes me start to feel guilty again for acting like this, for even thinking about sneaking off tonight, but I'm not going back out on what needs to be done. 

8:30 comes and goes, and I hear Kyle busy at work. He's typing away on his laptop, but I can tell he's trying to keep it quiet. I wish he wouldn't try so hard. The incessant pecking is doing its job at keeping me up. I never thought I'd be so thankful to hear fingers on a keyboard.

9:30 passes by, and I know this because I've maneuvered myself so that I can see the clock on my desk. Kyle is still up, still typing something. I scold myself for missing out on valuable Kyle time due to this idea of mine. If it doesn't work, I vow never to leave his side.

10:30 creeps closer, and I stare wide-eyed at the ceiling. Kyle went the bathroom precisely two minutes ago. At least I _hope_ it's the bathroom. He did say he was going to bed shortly after me. And he'll get a lot more rest without me there to bug him. Maybe he's taking advantage of the time we're apart. …Maybe he went off to find Miller.

Stupid, stupid Stan. Austin's right! Kyle has never shown an interest in that cult-ruling tool. Why would he now when he's got me? Still, I have to show Kyle that I'm every bit as important as that club of his. And then I've got to convince him that the HHS isn't worth it.

But fuck, what if he follows me? What if he sees its just Austin and I up to no damn good? What if he sinks one of his spies on me to scoop out the place and call me out on the false club? What the hell kind of club meets at 1:30 on Thursday nights anyway! Besides alcoholics unanimous. Oh god, what if he thinks I'm becoming some frat boy? Rushing at the crack of dawn so I can pledge to a lifetime of beer and unintelligent party quips?

I clamp my eyes shut upon first sound from the outside coming in. Kyle has returned and now he's getting undressed. I squint my eyes to watch my boyfriend as he strips down and crawls into bed, only to realize he left his desk light on. He sighs in aggravation, stands back up, and drags his feet over to the light. Just before he flips it off, he turns to me. In record time, I shut my eyes. Darkness surrounds me, and I hear him settle back down. I re-open my eyes until they adjust to the light. It's 10:46. Dammit, I should've gone with Austin's 11:00 plan. A minute has never dragged out so slowly in my life. I feel like I've counted 17 trillion sheep, all of them the very first one.

I shift over to my side, my pillow forming to my head. A dorm bed has never been this comfortable. Though there are definite perks to sleeping with your boyfriend, stretching out by yourself on a single bed has its advantages as well. For example, I can hog the sheets all to myself. And I can jab my elbow behind me or kick my legs without worrying about assaulting my bedmate. I smile and close my eyes, relishing in the feel of the cool, dry air all around me.

It takes me several minutes of fluttering my eyelids before I pry them open. But when that happens, a bolt of lightening strikes me and I jump up in my bed, glaring at the clock. Holy Jesus fucking Christ, its 1:17. It's 1:17! I FELL ASLEEP! I try desperately to control my anxiety as I breathe out slowly and silently, lowering myself back into the bed.

Okay, okay. Only thirteen more minutes before I need to make my escape. How could've I been so careless? Clearly I'm not cut out for this. I just hope Austin didn't blow me off in favor of his bed.

I need to get out of this room and into the hallway, fast and quietly. Dammit! I peek over at Kyle, releasing a sigh when I see he's still fast asleep. My jump didn't even stir the guy it seemed, which is good…wait, and bad. The idea is that I'm supposed to be quiet yes, but Kyle NEEDS to wake up, just slightly to see me gone. If he sleeps all through the night it defeats the whole purpose of this!

I at least get out of bed, taking my time. If—no, it needs to be when—Kyle wakes up, I want to be leaving. Not just getting out of bed. When I stand, I curse silently to myself. How the hell am I supposed to change clothes without waking him enough to coherently ask me where I'm going? Fuck, fine! Screw clothes! I'm in sweatpants and a t-shirt, that's damn good enough. I'll just slip in my sneakers…I do so, tying them in the dark and listening for the faintest sound of Kyle and Austin.

From here it sounds like it's dead silent in the hallway. I don't know if that's good or bad. I try to be as quiet as I can at opening the closet and taking out a jacket. It's bound to be freezing outside at this time of night. Just as I stand there, fully clothed, I try to think of something to wake Kyle up…and yet enable me to bolt out of here before he says anything. And without me looking suspicious.

Noticing the damn clock keeps changing its time, I almost have a heart attack as something slides under the crack of the door. I jump in surprise at it before bending down. It may be dark, but what little night vision I have is enough to make out a piece of paper. 

Wordlessly, I pick it up and glance at it. I may know it's a piece of paper, but I sure as hell can't read it. I dodge my way through the room to steal some of the moonlight from the window. Even though it's shining directly on Kyle's face, I'm sure he won't mind if I borrow it. However I think I make more noise trying to get to it than I would if I just flipped on a light switch, so instead I turn back around and head for the door. I swivel my body in Kyle's direction to check the status of his slumber, and note that he's just as asleep as before—he's even adopted a light snore.

Great. How the fuck am I supposed to wake him up? Maybe Austin can help me out. I'm assuming he's the one that wrote the note. Unless its some stalker who knows of our plan. In which case I'd be mildly creeped out and oddly flattered.

I shift back around to what I thought was the door, but turns out to be Kyle's desk and trashcan. "Fuck!" I curse quietly, reaching down to nurse my impacted knee. I hobble to the left and contact the cool metal knob between my fingers, prying our door open. Austin's face is the first thing I see. He's standing only inches outside of the door, so if Kyle or I was to sleep walk out of our room, we'd run into him before reaching our destination.

"What's this?" I ask him, holding up the note and shutting the door behind me, not too loudly, but not too softly.

"What's it look like?"

I realize that I now have sufficient light and open it at the crease. "Stan, 1:30—Don't be late," I read aloud.

"And you aren't," Austin points out. He glances down both sides of the hallway.

I wave the note in the air. "Is this your way of waking me up? I don't think you slipping a note under my door would do much good waking me out of a deep sleep," I tell him, laughing at his silly gesture.

He eyes me suspiciously. "You feel asleep, didn't you?"

I avoid his accusing stare.

He sighs and raises his eyebrows. "No, I suppose it _wouldn't_ do much good for you. But it WOULD raise Kyle's suspicions should he…say…wake up in the middle of your absence and discover this on the floor."

I drop my shoulders, feeling like an idiot. "Oh…"

"Yes oh," he pats my back. "Now slide it back under the door."

"Won't that be too obvious?"

"If Kyle knows you well, and he does, I'm sure he won't think much of it."

It's only once I've slid the note back under that I realize that he insulted my intelligence…again. I frown when I turn back to him, seeing that he's already walking down the hallway and heading for the stairwell. "Let's go," he calls out softly.

Catching up with him we make our way down the stairs and head out of the door into the cold night. It's probably because it's a Thursday that it's so quiet and still. I'm a little surprised. I figured there'd still be more people around, but JV isn't really like the huge public schools where there's always someone awake. Most of the guys here actually do care about their studies.

"You know what's even better about heading to Constance Hall?" Austin suddenly asks. I look at him questionably, waiting for his answer. "It's on the north side of the campus."

"So?" I finally ask when he doesn't continue.

I can feel him roll his eyes, "which means, if Kyle were to look out the window, he'd see us walking off together in the middle of the night."

Oh! That's true! Kyle would see this…that is IF he woke up. Part of me wants to turn around to see if I could see our window, but that's probably asking to give away our plan. Once we get to the hall, Austin leads the way and I see that the janitor's door is in fact unlocked.

I have no reason to ever really be in this building so I don't know my way around. Its best to just follow Austin. He seemingly picks a random classroom and flicks on a light.

"Won't anyone see the light?" I ask as I step in and look around. There's nothing special about it. A few cork boards, a white board, and desks. It's just an ordinary classroom. No ornate meeting ground like the HHS.

"I doubt it," he answers in a bored tone and slips into a desk, immediately resting his head on the table.

I take the set next to him and eye him carefully, "so we just stay here for a few hours?"

"Yup."

I groan, "this is going to be one of those long nights isn't it?"

"What else do you suggest?"

"We could…" I start, thinking it over. "Tell each other our life stories."

He snorts into the desk before raising his head to look at me, "mine's pretty basic. I had one of those ordinary lives not worth sharing. What about you?"

I let my mind wander back to my childhood in South Park. I could probably spend a few weeks telling him everything about those years, but there's a good chance he'd think I was full of shit. "Mine was pretty much the same," I say instead. "Tell me more about you and Danny."

"No," he says bluntly.

And with that, we fall back into silence. Austin lays his head back on the desk and I do the same. This IS going to be a long "meeting".

For some reason, my eyes won't stay shut. Either I am too bored or I am too awake, but they won't go. I look around, memorizing the detail of the wood grain on the desk. My foot begins to tap, but it doesn't make a sound. Finally, I blow air out of my mouth and vibrate my lips, lifting my head to peer at Austin. Damn boy is fast asleep.

I fall back into the seat and start tapping the desk with my finger. Eventually it makes a beat, which turns into a song—complete with me singing at least three steps out of key—which turns into a one-man-band. I can't remember the lyrics from ten minutes ago, but I'm still on the same song when I look over to see that Austin's breathing has picked up and, if possible, he's snoring louder.

Bastard.

I can't do this anymore. They might has well strap me to a padded wall and force me to watch hours of daytime talk shows, cause one more minute in here and I'm going to go insane. Ten to one says that Kyle didn't even wake up to begin with. We're going through all of this for nothing. I guess it's hard to believe in the foolproof plan when you don't believe in yourself in the first place. Maybe cause it wasn't _my_ plan. Or maybe cause I haven't executed it properly.

Or maybe cause its just no use. Kyle's more intelligent than this. What kind of club would recruit me at the _exact_ time his cult is planning the same thing? And better yet, why do I suck so badly at making him think it's the same thing? I can't show him what it's like because I don't know how to act the way he can. Like both Austin and Kenny said, I have to perform exactly like him so he can get what he gives. But the thing is…I never claimed to be a good actor.

"If you don't stop singing, I'm going to extract your vocal chords through your belly button with tweezers," Austin threatens me, his words muffled into his arm. Huh. Apparently he was trying to drown me out with his snores.

"Sorry," I mutter. He doesn't raise his head, but I know now he's just as alert as I am, so I begin to pose questions. "Austin, what if this doesn't work?"

"Then we try again next week," he answers back into his elbow.

"I don't want to try again next week," I decide.

This causes his head to rise and his eyes to glare at me. "You mean you're not having any fun?" he retorts moodily.

"No," I state honestly. "And this is not working. I don't know why I ever thought it could."

"Hey!" he cries defensively, thinking I'm putting down his plan solely cause I didn't come up with it myself. Truth be told, I wouldn't have come up with anything better. I would know. I've tried.

"It's not this plan, it's me." Ha, I'm using the old 'its not you, its me' response. I feel like I'm breaking up with the plan. "I'm terrible at pretending to be sneaky. I'm even worse at being cold. Its hurting Kyle, and it's hurting our relationship. I don't want to do this anymore."

He studies me before looking down at his desk, "you mean you never wanted to do this from the beginning."

"That too," I admit.

"What are your other options?" He fires at me.

I shrug, "dunno."

"So you're going to accept him being in the HHS?"

"I'm not saying that. I won't ever say that, but if I'm going to get him out, this isn't the way to do it. I mean that club has changed him, yes, but…are they really that dangerous of a group?" I find myself wondering. "They're more like a fraternity, with the whole brothers for life bull, but other than that…they're just an extreme version of an honor society, aren't they?"

Austin's starting to look at me like I've lost it, and I don't think I can make myself look better to him at the moment. I've never really sat back and thought about the HHS. Yeah, their methods are extreme, with the branding and all that, and the way they change the personality of a person is ridiculous, but that aside…how different are they really from a frat house?

Now that I think about… "Hey Austin?"

"What?" He snorts out.

"What's so great about the HHS anyway, why does everyone want to join? I mean…I don't think I've ever been told. It can't just be for popularities sake, can it?"

"You're trying to find reason in an unreasonable club," Austin stands up from his desk. "It's not so bad for you Stan, even if Kyle is a member, you two are still close…closer than I'd want to be with Danny, but close. I don't get that. My old friend doesn't see me as such." He rubs the side of his head as if he's getting an oncoming headache. "This is irritating. If you don't want to follow through with this plan, we might as well go back to the dorms. I can at least get some sleep," he mutters and starts to head for the door.

Watching his retreating back, I cringe as I think of what he said. He's right about one thing. Even with Kyle being a devoted HHS member, I still get to see him, and we still have a relationship. Austin and Jason do not. Thinking that, I decide it's time to put my OWN personal plan in motion. I'll bet that if Austin and Jason just had a few hours to be alone together, things between them could change. Austin obviously still wants his old friend, and the way Jason passionately hates the mention of Austin…well, it can't all be hate.

I might've failed at Austin's plan to get Kyle back, but that doesn't mean I can't succeed in helping Austin. There are plenty of other roads to take in saving my boyfriend. I've only got one to save Jason.

My new focus, for now, is Austin. And I'll do everything in my power to bring Danny back to him.

**i**_**BB**_ and _**f **_**G**


	14. XIII The Departure

**AN:** It's been a long while—life has gotten in the way of our updating. We're finding it harder to write together, but having great reviewers help us out.

**The Reformation of Kyle Broflovski **

**XIII. The Departure**

When I set out to get Danny back for Austin, I didn't even consider that I'd have to get close enough to Jason to get him to trust me. Naturally the guy seems to like me, if for no other reason than because I'm an architect major like himself. But, as I said before, I think it's more than that. I think there's a genuine connection in the person he used to be to who I am now. So I've decided that I'm not only getting Danny back for Austin—I'm getting him back for me as well.

Some might call that selfish, but I'm sick and tired of having only two real friends in this school. And I'm sick of confiding in Kenny, who in turn, tells everything to Austin. Then I hear an ear full when I meet up with him for an innocent lunch or drop by for a quick visit. It bothers me how close those two have gotten. I feel like they're moving forward, just like the rest of the world, while I'm stuck here battling a demon that isn't letting me win. When I get Austin his best friend back, I can finally get back to my own life. My own troubles. My own battles.

Because of the trust issue, I've decided that it would be easier for me to bring Austin to Jason vs. the other way around. And to do that and carry it out flawlessly, I've got to find an isolated and ideal place to trap them both. In other words, I've got to spy on Jason to find his hangouts.

I've silently been observing him for a little over four days now, and I'm beginning to notice a trend in his lifestyle. Wherever Miller is, Jason is never far behind. Possibly he worships the man like every other twisted member of their "club", or maybe its because he's as lonely as Austin is. Miller and Jason don't have a thing in common except for the obvious. And it doesn't really seem like Miller prefers Jason's company to anyone else's. You could even say that Jason doesn't seem overly thrilled to be part of that spotlight that Miller soaks up either.

I look at them at this very moment, illustrating my point perfectly. Miller is standing in a hoard of a thousand guys beside their usual cafeteria spot, and Jason is sitting nearby, looking up at him and smiling. But its not a smile of pride, and its not one of acknowledgement. Its one that the boy at the party gives when he's faking a good time. A forced smile.

Miller, of course, loves every minute of his popularity. I chuckle to myself and take a swig of my lemonade, thinking back to Kenny's reaction upon meeting the guy. _"I don't get what the big deal is. He's just another blonde guy,"_ he had said. His mediocre description of the cult leader/man of the hour boggled my mind until I got to thinking about it. Kenny's the most observant person that I know. And being an outsider looking in, there really _isn't_ anything special about Miller except for his hype. Without the publicity, he's just another face in the crowd. Which is why I don't find him the slightest bit intimidating anymore.

I don't think Jason is blind to this fact either. I remember that he told me how he disliked Miller at first. Maybe he said that to get on my good side, or maybe that's something else that we see eye-to-eye on. Pulling Jason away might end up being easier than pushing Miller out of the picture.

"Why are you staring at them?" Austin speaks up, and suddenly, I'm zapped back into real life. And people other than the HHS.

I turn my attention back to him and raise by brows. "Huh?"

"Kyle's not even there," he indicates. "There's no reason to Miller watch."

I laugh lightly and uncomfortably. "I'm not…Miller watching. I'm just checking out the scene. Seeing what's what."

He frowns. "Stan, if I didn't know you any better, I'd say you're starting to warm up to them."

"I'm not warming up to them!" I say defensively. "I just…I'm starting to wonder that if the club title of HHS was gone…would they be anything other than just an odd mix of guys hanging out together?"

"Probably not, but the point is they do have a club title that brings them together. You know, you've been talking in their favor a lot more recently."

"I have not!" Upon saying that so quickly, it's obvious to him, and to me, that he's right. I haven't been as adamant about dissing the HHS as I was before. But it really isn't because I'm warming up to them, it's because I'm seeing that the less attention and energy I give toward them, the easier it is to shrug off their attempts at befriending me.

From the corner of my eye, I see Jason is gathering his things and starting to say his goodbyes. This is my chance! The guy is hardly ever alone!

I stand up suddenly, shaking the table, "I have to go!" I say to Austin, who's clearly wondering what the hell has gotten to me. "Um, I gotta…" I start distractedly as I gather my things, while trying to eye Austin, and while trying to keep an eye on where Jason is departing all at the same time. "Go um, do stuff," I finish. I sling over my bag, grab Austin's apple since I already ate mine, and trail off after Jason.

I hear Austin utter out a complaint; whether it's of my apple stealing or my sudden departure, I'm not sure. My focus is on cutting off Jason before I lose him in the crowd of students gathering around to eat.

As I twist and slide through the crowd, I realize I have no idea what I plan to say when I catch up with him. As much as I'm sure he'll open my conversation with open arms, the guy is going to be suspicious. I've made it a point to make sure he knows I don't care for him. To suddenly want to be buddy-buddy? I have to be careful about how I do this.

From spying on him these past few days, I'm almost certain that, without a doubt, Jason is headed toward an espresso cart that's parked on the other side of campus. From there, he'll probably retreat to some area outside to study. He seems to like studying outside no matter how cold it is.

Okay, I can't make it seem like I was following him this entire time so I'll…I glance around and decide to cross through one of the department buildings rather than go all the way around like he'll go. I quickly dart inside, heading straight for the exit far across the way. I'm almost there and just as I'm about to open the door and head back out, I hear my name called.

"Stan!"

Damn. I drop my hand and turn around slowly to give Kyle one of my best smiles. Not caring that we are in the student eye, he leans over and gives me a quick peck on the lips. There's nothing dramatic or heated about it. "I thought you'd be at lunch," he says.

Kyle could not have picked a worse time to bump into me.

"I was, and hey, you know what, I'm kinda in a hurry so I'll see you later, bye!" I call out, waving to him as I rush through the doors. Crap! Even that small amount of time spent with Kyle is going to put Jason that much more ahead of me. The cart he always goes to never has a line and he only gets tea. It takes less than a minute for him to get his hot drink before he walks off. Not that I've been THAT attentive at following him…

Heading down the steps of the building, I slow down when I see that he's only just approaching the cart. Perfect! Now I'll just pretend that I too, was just about to walk up to get something to drink.

I suppose it would be a little over the top to walk up jollily and say, "top of the morning to you" or "fancy meeting you here, isn't it". Instead, I stealthily slide up until I'm a few feet behind him, then I casually walk up to the cart. Jason orders his usual, and I stand behind him nervously. It'd also be a bit much to stop him before he orders cause I recognized who he was just from the back of his head. I'm not _that_ creepy.

Upon receiving his beverage, Jason moves to the side to stir in some sweetener. As he does so, he turns just enough that I can play it off perfectly.

"Hey Jason," I coolly greet. I order a black coffee and await his reaction.

As expected, his face lights up genuinely. "Stan! What a pleasure running into you. Where are you off to?"

"Technical drawing," I reply, paying for my coffee and thanking the vendor. Taking a sip of the piping hot liquid, I smile and look at him. "And you?"

"I've got an hour to kill until urban planning. I usually just hang out in the quad and wait for class," he states matter-of-factly. Well shit, I wouldn't even have had to follow him around this whole time had I known he would provide the information freely.

"Well I can spare a few minutes, you feel like company?"

He eyes me over once or twice before his eyes twinkle and he grins. "Yours? What's the occasion? Did I win the special prize?"

I laugh and stir my coffee. The contrast of the hot beverage with the cool air creates clouds of lucid white radiating from my partially scarf-covered mouth. "I enjoy the weather like this." Even I don't believe my excuse.

Looks like he doesn't either, because his grin turns into a frown. "Stan, the only way you could bundle yourself up more is if you wrapped your body in saran wrap. You're freezing." He begins to walk away from the cart and so do I.

"True, but it does a body good," I respond. He gives me a "get serious" look as we walk side-by-side to the place by the tree he likes. "I just want to talk with you, is that okay?" I ask seriously.

He turns to look at me, stopping his trek in the snow-covered earth. "Well, sure it's okay. I'm just a bit shocked, that's all."

"Why is that?" I provoke and we begin walking again.

He turns back to looking in front of him and cocks his head to one side, staring at the ground so he knows where he's going. "I don't know. Just because you seem to always run away from me when I want to talk to you."

"Yeah, and people can change," I tell him.

"Occasionally. Hardly without reason though." He turns back to look at me pointedly. He looks as if he's questioning my motive. With good reason of course, and he has every right to do so, but I have no intention on telling him that, at least not anytime soon. "So what did you want to talk about?" He continues when I don't give him a response.

"Oh, um," I stutter. I still haven't decided HOW I'm going to get Austin and Jason in the same room, wherever that room/closet/building may be. I can't very well bring up Austin's name. That's the fastest way for Jason to simultaneously get pissed, clam up, AND ditch me. No, I have to work around it. "I wanted to apologize," my mouth says without consulting my brain.

"For what?" he asks curiously.

For what indeed. _I_ don't even know why I'm apologizing! "For…" searching, searching… "For Kenny," I blurt out.

"For Kenny?" As he says this, I saw the same thing in my head.

"Yes, for being so resistant to letting you meet him."

"Oh," Jason laughs lightly. "It's okay. I ended up meeting him anyway, hope you don't mind."

"Huh? No, of course not, when did you meet him?" This is new information…

"Some party when he was here, I met him at the same time he met Miller. It was just him and Kyle there. Kyle said you were busy?" He looks at me questioningly.

"Err, yeah," I say, remembering when I had pretended I had somewhere else to be to get Kyle suspicious of my behavior. Now that I think about it, I never DID ask Kenny how the party went. He seemed more content to just be in a good mood and not discuss it, so I let it slide. "What'd you think of him?" I'm curious to know how they hit it off.

Jason smiles, "he's a funny guy. He has the oddest sense of humor. He kept mentioning something about a plan to save a princess from an evil ogre empire, but I think it was drunk talk."

I suddenly start coughing and Jason looks over at me worriedly, but I wave off his concern. Goddamn Kenny! He wasn't drunk! He hardly ever gets drunk, he says he's the guy that takes advantage of a drunken situation. I have my ideas on what he means by that, but I've never asked for details.

"He kinda reminded me of-" Jason suddenly stops mid-sentence. "Well, anyway, he was a nice guy. I liked him." Jason smiles and I eye that smile suspiciously.

"Kenny _is_ a character," I find myself saying. "I find it refreshing to be around him. Most of the time. Other times…I want to strangle him with a bottle opener." I gesture at the ground. "Cause. You know. He gets to me."

He starts laughing like he's been there and understands me. "I know what you mean," he chimes in, though he doesn't add to my story or tell me whom he's referring to. I have a hunch that it's someone we both know.

"Well I'm glad it all worked out," I respond honestly, smiling. "With Kenny, I mean. You know, there aren't many people that meet him who dislike him. He's a great guy. I'm lucky to be his friend."

He smiles, and our conversation dies down. I'm not sure what my declaration to Kenny was for, but I think I was playing more on the idea that Austin is a lot LIKE Kenny, and being that Jason liked Kenny, what's the harm in liking Austin? Especially when they used to be so close. "So Jason…" I find myself saying before I really have something to follow it.

He stares at me with a hopeful look in his eyes. "Yeah?"

"I…I've gotta get to class." I smile shyly. "But we'll have to meet up again soon, okay?"

"Definitely," he agrees, and waves bye to me as I back out.

That was easy. As I make my way to my drawing class, I can't help but feel like I made some headway. For the time being, at least, Jason and I are on each other's good sides. And now it should be a piece of cake convincing Austin to come wherever it is we decide to meet up next.

-

"I need to come along…why?" Austin presses in annoyance as he continues following behind me. It's about eleven at night and as far as he knows I'm dragging him along to go grab a late night snack from the vending machines located outside the mess hall. "And why don't you just go to the one on our building?"

He's cranky. I know he is, it's late and he was in the middle of homework.

"Because," I answer.

"Because WHY?"

"The ones outside the mess hall have better choices, and you need a break from homework. You've been at it for hours."

He sighs, "you don't know that."

"No, but knowing you, you have been," I turn around to toss him a grin and he only scowls back at it. He's scowling because he knows I'm right. He already told me a few days ago that he's got a couple of major tests coming up, so why wouldn't he be studying? Austin really cares about his grades, even if he hates this school.

Of course what he doesn't know, and what I'm not telling him, is that I'm not in the least bit hungry. I don't need food; I have plenty at the moment. But from learning Jason's habits, I know he ALWAYS, without fail, comes to the mess hall vending machines at around this time for a late night snack. They're the only one that carries his favorite bag of chips.

It must be his comfort food or something, because he has them everyday. I've been thinking about this for days now and I realized awhile back that I couldn't possibly lock them in a closet together. There's no way I could do something like that. It's easier to get them to "bump" into each other, the way I've been "bumping" into Jason.

"Okay," Austin caves. "So maybe I need several hours of intense UNINTERRUPTED studying late at night to do well on tests, have you ever thought about THAT?"

I turn to him because he's stopped our progression completely. He's almost pouting. And if I weren't on such a strict timeline, I might sit and laugh at him for a while. Instead, I grip his right arm and pull him along. "You need brain food," I reply as my excuse for the impetuous behavior.

"I've got Twinkies in the room!" he protests.

I swivel my head around and crease my brow. "I don't think that Twinkies really qualify as 'brain food'. And a brainiac like you should know this." I turn around and feign concern. "Oh no. Maybe you've been eating them so much that your brain power is decreasing!"

He narrows his eyes at me, yanking his arm from my grasp. "I hate you," he mutters, but as soon as I resume my normal speed, he continues to follow me. We rush over to the mess hall, the moonlight reflecting on the metallic surfaces and framing the building like it's glowing.

"Mmmm…vending machine snacks," I prompt, pretending to salivate as we flip open the outside doors of the cafeteria. Immediately, I turn to the right, making my way to the hallway-of-snacks. I spy Jason bending down to collect his prize food the second I turn the corner. Overcome with anxiety and uncertainty of my predicted situation, my feet refuse to move any further.

Of course it results in Austin running into me, his face slamming into my back. "What the hell, St-" he begins, but one look at the direction of his eyes, and I know why he didn't finish calling my name.

Jason looks up from the machine and over to us, the same astonished expression plastered on his face as when I asked to talk to him for the first time. Austin, on the other hand, is growling, and if I didn't foresee his escape plan, I wouldn't have whirled around and grabbed the back of his jacket fast enough.

"We meet again, Jason," I say, thus commencing their reunion. I clutch my hand on Austin's shirt tightly and swing him around in front of me, practically pushing him inch-by-inch as I walk closer.

He doesn't say anything for a moment. He's only looking at Austin, but his brain quickly turns back on and he glances at me without a trace of amusement. "That seems to be happening a lot lately." He's frowning. "Now I see why."

Eh, so he's got me figured out. Too late now.

"I suppose I was a bit of an idiot to think you'd actually talk to me without having some sort of agenda. You never had any interest before, but…I thought maybe I was simply being paranoid. I thought wrong it seems, if you'll excuse me." He starts to turn around, heading for the other direction to leave, and I start to panic. He can't leave yet! Nothing has been accomplished! Hardly anything's been said and…I glance at Austin who's looking stone face. The idiot beside me hasn't even said a word yet!

"Austin!" I hiss at him, watching as Jason starts to walk off. "Fucking SAY something, anything!"

Austin says nothing. He continues to stand where he is, watching Jason's retreating back. I give an inner cry of aggravation. Are they really not going to say a WORD to each other?! I did not practically stalk Jason to have my plan completely blown off!

"Danny, hold on!" I suddenly cry out and cringe when I do so. I hadn't meant to call Jason by the nickname Austin gave him. Yet, he stops abruptly at the name. He isn't turning around, but at least he's stopped. Which means he's listening and that's good enough for me. "Just, just wait a second," I add, though there's no reason too.

Austin is trying to slowly back away. Fat chance of me letting him. I tighten my grip on his shirt to make sure he can't get too far while I'm half distracted with trying to keep Jason from taking off as well.

"If you two aren't going to talk to each other, then I'm going to talk FOR you," I tell them. "This is beyond ridiculous, and I'm sick of seeing both of you miserable."

I hear Jason scoff at the assumption, and Austin has yet to remove his accusing eyes from my vision. But, much to my relief, Jason pivots on his heel and slowly turns around. "You seek out so much knowledge about me, Stan. Yet you perceive so little. Why, _how_, could you possibly think I'm miserable without him?" His comment is directed at me, and his hand gestures to Austin.

"You can't even say his name, can you? You know this is all a mistake and you two are meant to have a great friendship and you blow it off for what, Jason? Some club with an anal retentive leader? Whom, might I add, you don't care for too much."

"Save your name calling for someone who wants to listen," Jason requests, and he turns away, heading out the back. His hand is poised on the double doors and pushing outwards.

I stand there with Austin attached to my side, refusing to let that boy walk out like this. "Y-you told me you liked my friend Kenny," I stammer with a loud yell.

He swivels his head and stares at me, bored. It's almost characteristic of Miller. "Yeah so?" But his voice indicates minor intrigue. Jason isn't a lost cause. He's not.

"Remember how I said Kenny and Austin are buddy-buddy?" At this, Austin's eyes flash hatred at me and he flails his arms rather pathetically. He's not putting up much of a struggle anymore. Something tells me he wants this as badly as I do.

"What's your point, Marsh," Jason says, and I shudder at the sound of my last name.

"W-well the reason they are is because they're a lot alike!" I shout. Austin stops fidgeting completely, and Jason's shoulders drop. I press on. "And I know you are aware of this. Kenny reminds you of Austin. He reminds you of your best friend."

"Stan," Austin says my name softly, almost pleadingly. It's like he wants me to stop, but at the same time he doesn't.

"My best friend?" I hear Jason say more to himself than me. "Just how…is Kenny anything like Miller?"

My eyes widen slightly at what he said. I feel Austin shudder beside me and I turn to look at him. His eyes are downcast, but oddly enough he has a smile on his lips. A horribly sad and depressing smile. I want to smack it off. He shouldn't be smiling like that.

"Wow," he mutters to the ground. "Miller huh?" I'm not sure if he's talking to me, Jason, or himself, but he continues regardless. "Don't I feel ridiculous…I had one tiny strand of hope, thinking that maybe…but…well," he looks up at me and wipes that fake smile off his face. "Thanks for confirming how hopeless this really is. Now I know exactly where I stand."

Austin wrenches himself from my grasp and takes a few steps backward before he turns around to walk off through the same way we came. For some reason, I don't dare call out to Austin the way I did for Jason. I'm not sure why, but I feel like I'd be betraying him if I did so. I already feel as if I made their situation worse. He never told me, but now it's obvious why he still had that shred of hope. It's because he had never actually talked with Jason.

This meeting gave Austin the proof he needed to decide that Danny really is someone he'll never get back. I want to kick myself. I want to go after him, tell him I'm sorry I took away his hope but…no.

Jason is still here and at the sound of the door slamming shut, announcing Austin's departure I turn back to him ready to yell and curse at his idiocy. But one look at him advises me against it. He had been looking angry there for a moment, annoyed. But that's all gone and I see a trace of regret even though he's quick to cover it up.

"Why did you do that?" He asks after we've stared each other down long enough.

"Why did I do that?" I cry out. "Why did _you_?! How could you do that to him, use Miller's name like that? I see you two together, you're no more of close friends with him than any of the other HHS guys! And yet Austin-"

"Austin?!" Jason lets out a sarcastic scoff. "What do you even really know about my old relationship with Austin? You've no idea why I can barely stand to look at him!"

"Because you allowed yourself to be brainwashed and pulled in by that sorry excuse for an honor society!" I yell out him, not at all ashamed that I called out the HHS for what it really is to someone other than Austin or Kenny.

He stares at me, and I stare back huffing angrily.

"Brainwashed?" He finally says dully. "Pulled in?" He shakes his head almost as if he feels sorry for me. "Oh Stan, you just don't know anything, do you? But why would you, why would Austin tell you what he did to me. You think I liked ditching him, you think I _liked_ leaving him to the wolves in that club, to the rumors and the animosity he'd feel from the rest of the people in this school?" Jason snorts. "Everything that guy's getting is well deserved."

My mouth drops open and I'm about to ask 'how' or 'what', but Jason interrupts my dumbfounded stare to brush past me. He stops just inches away from me. "Leave me alone, Stan. It was wrong of me to think you were different." And like that, he exits the hallway, leaving me and my stupidity to fester alone in the dimly lit corridor. Hanging my head, I sigh deeply before turning around and trailing my two friends who left minutes before.

What have I done? Can I do nothing right? I couldn't convince Kyle to get out, and if anything, I just gave Jason further reason to cut off his left arm for the HHS. I should just stop right now. And what the hell was he talking about? What could've Austin possibly done to him? Austin clearly loves his Danny. In a purely friendship-I-would-do-anything-for-him way, but nonetheless, the man is depressed without his companion. As I push the stairwell open and climb up to Windermere 3, I get this overwhelming feeling of failure. Like anything I do will result in a worse outcome than before.

I open our room door quietly, so as not to disturb Kyle. I haven't been gone _that_ long, but he's been falling asleep a lot quicker now that we're back in the same bed. I wouldn't be surprised to see him sleeping…OR still up. "Hey," I greet him, my pace slowing as I see him lying on his stomach with a textbook cracked open on his bed. He peers up at me with a disapproving look, his legs immediately uncrossing and falling lifelessly onto the bed.

He looks me up and down before raising his eyebrows and going back to his studies. "You didn't find a snack you liked?" he asks subtly but curious. He pops a pen cap and begins chewing on it before I even have a chance to answer.

"No," I state simply. I walk over to my wardrobe and peel my jacket off. "Are you tired yet? I'm kinda exhausted."

"That's fine," he mutters, closing his book and trudging over to this closet, producing his toothbrush and other bedtime bathroom supplies. I scurry around to fetch mine so we can go together, but he's out the door before I can retrieve it. What's up his ass?

As usual, as soon as he comes in, I go out and do my thing. I come back only minutes later to see all the lights out and Kyle under several covers in our bed. I sigh audibly before putting down my own toiletries, pulling off my shirt and dropping my jeans, and crawling into bed beside him. I try my best to snuggle up to him, but I can tell his embrace is limp and uncaring.

I sigh again, trying to get comfortable once more in the tiny narrow bed practically built for a female gymnast. "Goodnight Ky," I whisper. I twist around and try to kiss him, but he dodges my lips in favor of his pillow. I contact his cheek instead. That's it. I shove the covers back and flip over so I'm facing him. "Okay, what'd I do now?"

He stares at me, sighs himself, and then ignores whatever he wanted to tell me by smashing his face against mine. Amazingly, I'm the first to pull away. Maybe I should tell him where I've been. I owe him the honesty.

He takes the pulling away as disinterest, to which I grab his shoulder and pull him back to me the minute he distances himself. My eyes are adjusting, and I can see the green in his. "Kyle," I breathe. He blinks at me. "You're…you're my boyfriend, right?"

He doesn't answer right away and I can feel my heart pounding at the silence. Why does he need to think about that kind of question? He either is or he isn't, right?

"No," he says softly, and a rush of different emotions fills my head and my heart…I'm about ready to climb off the bed when he grabs a hold of my waist. "No," he says again. "I happen to kiss and do various other physical activities with all my good friends. Including sharing a bed obviously meant for one, don't you?"

I could kill him.

He must see the murderous glint in my eye because he leans over and kisses my forehead. "Stan what kind of question is that? I thought this sort of thing was implied, loudly implied, by everything we've been doing."

"A guy likes to hear it every once in awhile," I mutter annoyed. "And excuse me for asking when you get all annoyed like you are now."

"Just because I'm annoyed doesn't mean I care any less for you. Why wouldn't I be annoyed with you sneaking around behind my back? Getting "snacks" and "going to the bathroom" and whatnot. As long as its been taking you to go to the bathroom lately I feel like I ought to call you a doctor or something."

I sigh and pull myself in closer toward him, resting my face in his chest. "I've been getting Jason and Austin back together on a completely platonic friend level."

Kyle pulls back and lifts my head up with his hand. Even in the faint darkness I can see him raising an eyebrow, though the emotion being displayed in his eyes is hard to make out. "You've been doing what?"

"Kyle, there are so many secrets between us that it's ridiculous. I don't want to keep anything from you anymore."

"Yeah I get that," he says distractedly. "But what did you say about Jason and Austin?"

I repeat myself and, in doing so, I see Kyle looking like he wants to groan. "What?!" I say once I'm done. "I know you don't like Austin but-"

"It's got nothing to do with my personal feelings toward Austin. You're sticking your nose into something you know nothing about."

If I wasn't laying down I'd probably drop my jaw, "Jason practically said that exact same thing! Just what is it that I know nothing about?"

He completely bypasses that last question and goes for my first statement, "when did Jason say that?"

"Earlier this evening! I…um, well when I was getting snacks from the vending machine I was actually getting Austin and Jason to have a confrontation in the area in front of the mess hall. But never mind that, it completely backfired because Jason said what you said. What don't I know?"

"What did I just tell you about sticking your nose into something you know nothing about?" he reminds me, though I think its my right to know if Austin has been lying to me all along. Which I suspect is not the case, but sometimes I AM wrong.

"I don't want to fight with you," I respond, trying to avoid a possible confrontation. I didn't tell him for us to fight about it. I told him because I wanted to share my secrets with the one I love the most. Even if I'll never receive the same treatment from him.

He looks at me strangely. "We're not fighting."

Sighing, I look into his eyes. "Let's just go to bed. I'm tired."

"Matchmaking can be very exhausted," he replies, sneaking in a grin as he situates himself behind me. I decide it's best to let his comment slide and follow his lead, settling down in our normal position. A few seconds later, I hear him chuckle.

Immediately, I turn to face him with skeptical eyes. "What?"

He pulls a stray hair away from my eye and cups my cheek with his hand. "I was just thinking how if you do this long enough, you could host a show."

I laugh and shove him, pushing his back flush against the wall. "Asshole," I mutter before refusing to turn to my other side again. Tonight I'll sleep facing him.

He smiles and kisses me tenderly. "You just need to do a better job with the matching," he whispers before closing his eyes. He doesn't see my frown and the disappointment coating my eyes. Whether he thinks it's a match made in heaven or if he thinks I'm doing the devil's work, it doesn't bother me. First of all, I'm not doing this so they can get to the status that Kyle and I share. Austin misses his friend. And I'm pretty damn sure Danny's still in there somewhere.

This thought helps me drift to sleep peacefully instead of wanting to bother my roommate further.

-

I haven't seen Austin in three days. I don't know how he's managed to avoid me, but he has. When I go to his room he's either not there or ignoring my knocking. He wont answer his cell when I call and what's worse is that I can't even ask another one of his friends about him. He doesn't have any others here. I'm at my wits end. Part of me is tempted to call the police to make sure he hasn't gone missing, but I don't think he'd just disappear…at least not without telling me…I hope.

I knew he wouldn't be pleased with what I did, but I didn't know _this_ is how he would react. I can deal with anger, even him being upset with me, but I don't like the disappearance act. It's kinda scaring me.

Even Kyle has noticed Austin's missing. "Haven't seen your friend around," he stated to me the other day. He sounded bored, and not as if he really cared, but the point is that Kyle noticed. If Kyle notices, that's a huge problem in my book.

Right now I'm headed over to his room again. This time I have no intention on giving up. I will get into his room whether I have to bang and yell, or simply take down the door myself. After knocking once and having it opened automatically, I'm almost at a loss.

"Come in," he says to me before turning to head back in.

My practiced response of, "where have you been?" falls off my tongue as I eye his room. Austin's leaning over a file box and seemingly looking through the paperwork inside. He's pulling out a few pieces and casting them aside before he turns his attention back to the file box.

And speaking of boxes, his room is filled with them. They're on the bed, his floor, his desk, and he's just sitting in the middle of it, completely oblivious to their presence. "Sorry for avoiding you the past few days, but I didn't want you to try to change my mind. Not that you had any hope in the matter." He says this so lightheartedly I almost don't think he's talking to me.

"Change your mind about what?" I scan my eyes over all his packed up stuff. Only a few boxes are opened, and most of them are filed with his personal belongings. "Where are you going?"

"I'll be staying with Kenny for awhile to sort out my future, because as of yesterday, I am no longer a sophomore at Jackson Vanderbilt College. I dropped out."

"You _what_!?!?" I roar, aware I'm sounding like an overprotective mother instead of the friend he clearly needs right now. My eyebrows furrow as I look over the boxes again, trying to sum up what little sense is in my brain about the situation.

He steps away from the file box with a few files and walks over to an open box behind him. Placing the files inside on the top of his belongings, he folds over the flaps and grabs a roll of duct tape to secure it shut. "You heard me. Here," he says, searching for another a tape roll and tossing it in my direction. I think fast and automatically catch it, though I have no intentions on using it to help pack up my FRIEND.

I drop the tape as I drop myself to my knees. Squatting amongst the sea of brown cardboard, I never noticed how much stuff Austin actually has. I never thought it was enough to fill up this many boxes anyway. I stare at him hard. "Okay, so you dropped out. And," I grit my teeth at this, "you're moving in with Kenny? Why?"

"He's a cool guy," he replies matter-of-factly.

"Yeah," I agree absentmindedly. Looking over the TV, the stereo, every one of Austin's possessions, an idea springs forth. "He didn't put you up to this, did he?" Damn it Ken, I know you're lonely, but is that any reason to steal Austin away from here?!

"No," he tells me. "You did."

"I…I _WHAT_?!?!" I shout. "How could I put you up to something so…so…SO STUPID!" 

His shoulders drop and he glares at me. "You've been known to do some pretty stupid shit, Stan."

"But I-"

"Actually, I should be thanking you," he continues, mildly cheerily. It gives me the creeps.

"Thanking me?" I repeat. I'm repeating everything he's saying because it's just too damn difficult to swallow. Why is he leaving? "For what? For introducing you to Ken?" I guess sarcastically, not at all thrilled that my 'stupidity', as we've coined it, has led him to drop out of school to be with Kenny. I thought Austin wasn't like that.

"That too," he admits. He senses my confusion, betrayal, and anger, because he drops his roll of tape and slides the box he just closed up next to me and takes a seat. "If it wasn't for your dumb stunt of…whatever you were trying to accomplish with Jason and me…well, I would've probably wasted my life here waiting for him to come around." He hesitantly smiles, and I can see there's hurt underneath. "But now I know how he truly feels. I heard it from of his own mouth. And it made me realize how foolish I've been to think he could ever change."

"He can though," I contest, feeling desperate and hopeless by Austin's determination.

He shakes his head. "No, seeing him that night proved to me we'll never be who we once were." He laughs to himself. "I don't know what I was thinking. Staying here for him is about as gay as…you and Kyle," he finishes with a smirk.

In ordinary circumstance, I would have laughed at the way he used that word. Now, I can't imagine laughing at all. "Stop fucking smiling when you're not happy," I snap at him.

Austin looks surprised at my tone and instead of wiping it off as I told him to, he gives me another one, a sad one. "Sorry, this is all I can manage right now…it's been a hectic last few days with exit interviews and making sure all my credits are transferable and crap like that. I'm kinda tired you know? I haven't even told my parents. They were so excited that I could get into this private school." He looks down as he eyes an opened box. "They'll be a little disappointed I think."

"Then don't leave," I state the obvious.

He looks back at me, meeting me squarely in the eye, "I want it to be that easy. Stan, I told you why I was still here at JV. I was here for him, for Danny. I held onto a hope that was pointless. I hate this school more than you because I've been here longer. I've been stared down, avoided, and snickered at more than I care to count. But I did it because I thought that maybe one day I'd wake up and Danny and I would be friends again." Austin stands back up and leans down to pick up his tape heading for a new box. "But that's not the case, and now I have no reason to stay. My major isn't even that prominent here, so it's not a big loss really."

"What about me?!" I can't help but selfishly cry out.

"You?" he crinkles his eyebrows like he doesn't understand.

"Yes! You're practically the only friend I have here, I can't imagine going through the rest of this year without your support! Who will I sit with at lunch? Who will bitch with me about the HHS, who will I get my daily dose of sarcasm from?"

Austin gives me an amused look as he pulls out a long stretch of tape, "Kyle." He grins suddenly, "maybe not so much about the HHS but…you haven't been bitching about them lately anyway. You'll be fine without me and even if you aren't, I'm sorry Stan but I can't stay here for you. Understand that."

My shoulders sag and I feel a huge weight of defeat press down on me. I DO understand him, but that doesn't mean I want to lose him.

"Umph," I grunt out. Austin's pressed a small box into my arms. I eye it and then him curiously.

"Help me load things into my car."

"Wha-"

"I have to be off campus by today and I told Kenny I'd be at his place by dinner."

I sit staring at him with the small box in my hand. He still has that damned weak, pathetic smile on. He's really going to leave me, JV, and Danny behind.

"This is too sudden," I tell him weakly.

"Life moves quickly," he responds and nudges me with his fist. He drops his car keys on top of the box I'm holding. "Now start loading or it'll take all day."

I do as I'm told silently, unable to find the right words to say to the guy who means so much to me. Surprisingly enough, it doesn't take very long once the both of us get a system of him picking up two boxes at a time, meeting me on the 1st floor, and me taking them out to the car. And although I'm working with him, I can't help but feel like I'm working against myself. I need Austin. I know it's selfish, but I do. I meant what I said. Without him here, who _will_ bitch with me about the HHS? Everyone else here is in love with them. Will I become the outsider and fill his isolated shoes?

By the time we're finished, I think a little under two hours have passed. I scan the contents of his car and slam the trunk, jogging back into the dorms to meet him as he locks up. During the packing, I had spied a few HHS members and groupies migrating through the stairwell and the lobby as I transported Austin's boxes out to his car. They all gave me indecipherable looks…but I knew what they were thinking. A few of them even spoke it. "See your buddy couldn't hack it," they muttered to me, mocking Austin's mental strength in my presence. I wanted to hurl each box at their heads, rendering them completely unconscious and hopefully turning them into a human vegetable.

What do they know? They don't know a damn thing about Austin because their leader, the high and mighty asshole himself, Miller filled their minds with such bullshit about the guy that they didn't give him a chance. Why do they all hate him so much? I mean besides the obvious. I guarantee Austin wasn't _always_ badmouthing them. Hell, he is one guy. They can't possibly feel threatened by him. What the FUCK did Miller tell them about him?

I think back to what both Jason and Kyle had said, and how they used identical tones and words. As if they were simply regurgitating the information they had heard about Austin beforehand. Whatever it was, it HAS to be the reason Jason left Austin behind.

I connect with Austin as he's walking down the stairs. "Does it all fit?" he asks me, skipping every other step to greet me so we can walk out together.

"Barely. You've got a lot of crap, dude!"

"It's all junk," he informs me, "but Kenny says he wants whatever I don't bring with me, so I figured I can give him enough to re-decorate his apartment."

"Bring with you where," I ask, though not in a form of a question. What does he plan on doing after he lives with Kenny?

He turns to me as we reach the ground floor again. "I'm not sure yet. But I'll keep you informed."

I nod quietly and walk by his side as he drops his key off at the front desk and signs out his mailbox and all the technical junk. I walk out to his car with my hands stuffed in my pockets, afraid to say anything that will result in an emotional farewell.

"Austin, I-" I begin.

"Don't," he tells me, bringing a hand up to my shoulder. "Good luck, Stan. With Kyle. With classes. With the whole hunt down for the HHS thing," he grins slightly. "Don't let them get to you. They're just a bunch of guys anyway."

I frown, only because I know he's serious about leaving. And it's not just the fact that we're standing right beside his car, where all of his possessions are neatly packed up. It's because this is the first time he has so casually mentioned the HHS as a group with no significance. I know he's going to be happier away from here. I can see the change already.

I just wish he wasn't so happy to leave me.

"I'm not happy to leave you," he voices and I widen my eyes in surprise. "I've been talking with Kenny a lot lately," he says as if that's reason enough to be able to read my mind and face…and it probably is. "It'd be cool if you could come with. If you could live with me and Kenny in his crap-hole apartment, hanging out like ordinary guys without the pressures of a sadistic cult looming. But," he pauses to eye me. "We can't live together, and even if I invited you, would you come?"

I take maybe a second to think about it and shake my head wearily.

Austin nods in an approval sort of way, "right, because you're here for Kyle. Not me, not Kenny." He opens his car door and sits himself in the driver seat, turning on the engine and sliding down the window. "Don't look so depressed."

"…You'll come back and visit?"

"No," he answers determinedly. "I won't ever be coming back here, but you know where Kenny lives. I'm an hour away just like he is. YOU can come visit us."

I glance down and shift my feet, kicking a pebble near my shoe. I step back abruptly when I hear Austin let out a long sigh and as he reopens his car door. Without a word he engulfs me in his arms in the sort of hug you get from a good friend. From an older brother you admire who's leaving you to get married—it feels like one of those, and I appreciate the gesture more than he'll ever know.

I return it and we stay like that for a while before we both remember ourselves and pull away.

"Wouldn't want Kyle to hunt me down," he says and I laugh at the joke, realizing a few moments later that he's probably not joking. He jumps back in his car and starts to back it up. "Thanks for everything dude, the last few months…" he shakes his head, as I step aside so as not to be ran over by him. "They would have been unbearable without you."

I only nod, not being able to think of a single word to say. Austin pulls his car back in drive and halts it next to me.

"Stan?" He questions, looking straight out of his front windshield. I don't respond, but he must know I'm listening. "I don't care what you do, but don't end up like me okay? You do everything in your power to get Kyle to stay at your side. You two…" he shakes his head again. "I haven't met a duo like you guys, and I don't think I ever will…make sure it stays that way."

"…Okay," I manage out meekly and he gives me a wide smile. One I haven't seen before because its not guarded, suspicious or fake. Leaving JV is the best move he can make for himself. He has no idea what he'll do now, but the pressure and the false hope are off him. It's like seeing a new person, one I won't really get to know.

Austin gives me a final nod before he starts to drive off and head for the main gate to leave the school. There's no last minute honk, or wave, he just slides through the gate and heads onto the main street, pausing before he makes a right turn. And like that…he's gone.

I stay in the parking lot probably much longer than I need to before I pinch my nose and turn to head back into the dorm. Waiting for and surprising me is Jason. He's leaning against the building his eyes on the road Austin just drove down for probably the last time.

I stop walking when I'm about two feet away from him. He turns his eyes to meet mine and I want to say something. To ask him if he's happy about what he's done. Happy that Austin left in defeat, if he's pleased he'll never see the guy again. But I can't even stomach the idea. Instead I attempt to brush by him without a word and head back up to my room. He stops me by gripping my upper arm with his hand. I turn and glance at him expectantly.

"Where's he going?"

"Where's who going?" I ask dully. I don't want to play the let's not say the guy's name thing right now.

"…Austin," he emphasizes his name. "Where's he going?"

I stare at him in slight disbelief before curling my lip in annoyance. "If you want to know, I'll give you his cell phone number so you can call and ask." Jason drops his arm back to his side and stands to his full height.

"No," he says quietly. "That won't be necessary." He turns and enters the dorm building without another word.

I can't IMAGINE what it is that made those two the indifferent enemies they are today, but I will find out. That is one thing I will not screw up on. Eyeing the road one last time, I turn to face Windermere. It has a whole new appearance now that I know I'm alone. The whole school does. This must be what Austin felt like before I was here. The slightly frightened and yet oddly exhilarating feeling of going up against something all on your own.

Because now it's just me vs. them. And facing them seems a lot harder now that it's just me.

_**-i**_**BB **and _**f **_**G**


	15. XIV The Revolution

**Indiana Beach Bum AN: **Long chapter here, folks. We're getting down to the end, but there are a lot of loose ends to tie up. And, not to worry, the reason we're finding it hard to write together is due to our conflicting schedules, and not much else. Thank you for the responses on the last chapter! Keep them coming.

**FG: **As IBB said I should point out, this quick chapter update is a bit of a treat. The next chapters won't be up as soon, but you can always hope they will. :)

**The Reformation of Kyle Broflovski **

**XIV. **The Revolution

I stare bleakly at the empty booth in front of me. Picking up a fry from my tray, I bite down and chew distractedly. Kyle's in one of his engineering classes right now, otherwise I'd beg him to sit here with me. Even if he's already eaten. I just need some companionship.

My days have been so lonely without Austin here. It's only been five days and I'm feeling withdrawal symptoms from my newest best friend. I tried giving Kenny a call a few nights ago, but he was laughing so hysterically with his new roommate, I didn't have the heart to ask to speak to Austin. I'm glad they're happy. Seriously, I am.

At the same time, I want them to feel as miserable as I do. Things have only gotten worse around here since Austin's departure. I feel like more of a target than ever. They know that one rebel isn't as strong as two, and without my partner-in-crime, I make an easy target. Or so they think.

I still avoid them in public areas. Lecture halls, labs, even this damn cafeteria. But I feel their gazes burning through my skin as they talk loudly about me to get my attention. They aren't even all that clever at pretending to hide what they want anymore. They know I know and that's all they need to know.

"Hey Stan," I hear as a familiar face takes his seat in front of me. Jason and I haven't said a word since that day he saw Austin leave, and I was pretty damn sure I wouldn't hear from him much again.

I sneer at him, opting to gnaw on my fry instead. Where the hell does he get off thinking he can sit there? Doesn't he know that's where Austin used to sit? And on the days that Austin wasn't here and he sat there, didn't he realize that I would rather be anywhere else but here?

He adjusts his position in the booth, and I notice he only brought over vitamin water and a wrapped hamburger this time. Maybe he didn't plan to stay long.

"What now?" I growl, aware of how bitter I sound. I'm purposely trying to make him leave.

"You can't push me away this easily," he calls me out. "It was rather insulting what you did that night with…Austin…but I'm no longer offended. If anything, I should applaud your last minute efforts, as futile as they may seem."

"What are you trying to prove? You got your wish. Austin's gone. Congratulations. Now leave me the fuck alone."

He smiles warmly. "Stan, its for the best, trust me. He would've only betrayed you in the end."

I give him a blank look. "What the hell are you talking about."

He waves whatever thought he had away with his hand and sinks his teeth into the big sandwich. I watch disgusted, taking a sip of my drink and waiting for him to swallow so he can continue badgering me with petty conversation.

"Enjoying your lunch?" He asks me cheerfully looking down at my tray.

"I was," I pointedly look at him. "But I think your idea of getting lunch to go is growing on me," I make a motion to stand up before Jason raises a hand in the air and laughs.

"Okay, I get it. I'm unwanted company," he stands up himself and I allow myself to sit back down. "It's difficult for me to understand when I'm acceptable company from you and when I'm not. You liked me at first," he says this thoughtfully. "But then you realized what I belonged to and then you didn't like me. Then you ignore me and all my advances, and then I find you wanted to chat with me…" he looks slightly amused. "Only for me to find out you did so simply to trick me. If anything, shouldn't I be the one turned off by you? Ever heard of the saying you should like someone for who they are and not WHAT they are?"

I stab a piece of the steamed broccoli in front of me. Unfortunately, he has a point. At the same time he'd better not try and play the saint game.

"So we're both not the most honorable people when it comes to each other," he adds. I'm surprised he's willing to admit his own faults. "But how fun is it really to sit and eat lunch alone? Especially when I know for a fact, from Kyle, what a social butterfly you used to be."

At times like this, I wonder why Kyle had to talk about me so much to other people. I sigh resignedly and grunt. Jason only laughs, "I take it that I am allowed to sit back down?"

"It's not like you won't be back tomorrow," I say more to my plate than him.

"That's true," he says pleasantly and I watch as he settles down comfortably and picks up the hamburger again.

"Why are you so enamored with getting to know me?" I ask bluntly. "It's been bugging me for a long time. Is it because Miller and Kyle told you too?"

Jason chews on his burger thoughtfully before swallowing and taking a few light sips of his V water. "At first, yes."

"I knew it," I mutter annoyed. "Asshole," I add in for good measure.

"I did say AT FIRST, but you honestly intrigue me Stan."

"Why?"

"I'm not sure myself. Maybe it's because you've put up such resistance to the one club I've sworn everything to, maybe it's because you befriended my only enemy, maybe it's because we're both architecture majors. Though it's probably more so because Kyle talked so much about you before you came. I had envisioned we'd be good friends the way he went on about your mannerisms and hobbies."

"And how wrong he was," I say as I decide whether I want another vegetable or if I want to dive into my entrée.

He washes down another bite with his water and raises his eyebrows to me, holding the bottle and pointing at me with an all-knowing nod. "Actually, he wasn't too far off."

I cock my head to the side in exasperation. "Do you take joy in pissing me off?"

"Not at all," he replies quickly. "But I do enjoy that I'm the only person from my honor's society, save Kyle of course, who you don't immediately push away. Sure, there's resistance there. But I think there's more to you, Stan." He smiles. "And I'm not some wimp who takes your hurtful comments to heart. I know you're a decent guy through all that bitterness."

I narrow my eyes at him. Is he serious? How can he take my verbal thrashings so lightly? I practically criticize everything he stands for, spit on his beliefs, and laugh at his misfortune. How could he EVER want to socialize with someone like that?

"You have a force field, Stan Marsh. One that Kyle broke through a long time ago," he notifies me and grins, "and one that I'm working on steadily."

"Do I," I ask with mock interest. Although I gotta hand it to him…he barely knows anything about me, except for what Kyle has raved about. And here he is, putting me in my place. Really the only thing I do have against him is his club of choice. To me, that encompasses his life. Still, he's got a point. It's been almost three months since I started pushing him away and he's not going anywhere. And if I learned anything from following him around…I've found that he's a pretty interesting guy.

"Indeed you do," he reaffirms. "But you know I'm right, so let's cut the bullshit," he adds with a smile.

I drop my fork and glare at him, though I feel the glare softening. "Okay Jason," I agree. "I will no longer gripe about you sitting here." I lift the fork in a threatening manner. "But know this. If Austin were here, he'd be sitting right where you are. And I wouldn't even have to think that decision through."

"You care for Austin, I get it."

"And you and I are NOT friends."

"Of course not, Stan," he tells me, still smiling. "That would be unheard of."

"You are nothing but body mass to make me feel less like a loner."

"And I'm slowly but assuredly getting annoyed."

I want to add a few more terms to our…I guess its an agreement, but I decide against it. He IS sitting beside a person who doesn't like him, and I suppose that counts for something. After giving a firm nod, I begin eating my meal once again and the two of us lapse into silence. It's nothing but chewing, swallowing and sipping. Personally I'm comfortable with it, but I can tell Jason is itching to say something.

"What?" I ask after I can't take his please-talk-to-me look anymore.

"We can't just eat here in silence. It defeats the purpose of me being here."

I narrow my eyes mostly in confusion. "But…we're not friends. What could we possibly have to talk about?"

"Well…" he taps a few fingers on the table top and I eye them, willing them to stop. "What did you and Austin talk about?"

My attention is averted from his hand to his face. What _did_ Austin and I talk about? A lot of things, things I don't want to talk to him about. "How the HHS represents everything that is wrong with this country."

His face falls and he sighs in pure annoyance. "Did your sole reason for being friends lie on that single topic? Did you two talk of nothing else?"

I smirk, feeling a little better at having gotten under his skin, even if it is a little childish to keep bringing it up. "Yeah," I say after I've thought over it. "We talked about everything. Our pasts, sports, our families, music, movies, class, our friends…the list is endless. We clicked that much. Next to Kyle, he was my closest friend at this college."

"Then we can start down that list ourselves," he says, smiling brightly.

"I'd have to be pretty comfortable around you to even brush through it with you, and before you ask, no, I'm not one hundred percent comfortable around you."

"I sensed that," he slips in.

"BUT," I continue, "we can make small talk. Sitting around staring at each other can get kind of weird."

"I agree."

"Well good then."

Jason nods and smirks, taking another bite of his burger when I don't say anything more. He looks up occasionally, I think waiting for me to make the first move into conversation, but he's crazy. He's the one bothering me. Why would I ever want to START UP a conversation with him?

Ugh, this silence is more annoying than sitting alone. "So, what do you like to do on your spare time?"

"I like to follow people around and memorize their schedules so I can accidentally bump into them," he replies, staring me right in the eyes, unblinking.

I open my mouth, but find that the words are stuck in my throat.

"Don't you think it would've been less obvious if you just _asked _me my schedule? After the run-in with Austin, I put two and two together. You aren't very good at being sneaky, Stan."

I groan. "So I've noticed."

"In a way, what you did was rather admirable, if not foolish and pointless, of course."

"Of course," I say mockingly. "You'd do the same you know, for your friends."

Jason scoffs, "I highly doubt that. I tend not to get involved in my friends' affairs. Their relationships with others are hardly any of my concern."

"Except when it comes to me, Kyle, or Miller?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Exactly," he grins.

"Yeah well, when I see my friends down and out about something, I try to help them out if I can. And Austin was the damn pinnacle of down and out when it came to you."

Jason suddenly erupts into laughter while I watch him, bewildered at his reaction. I didn't think that what I said held any humor in it whatsoever.

"I'm sorry Stan," he says still laughing, wiping a fake tear. "It's just, he has you so ridiculously played. I mean, down and out over me? That's _his_ fault, not mine. Our entire fallout was due to him!"

"I don't get it," I confess, leaning over my food. I want him to tell me, but I'm pretty damn sure he'll blow it off like so many others do. "What happened with you and Austin?"

His laughter dies down to a snort before looking back down at his food. I knew it. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Jason, if you want to continue sitting with me today, you will tell me what the fuck happened between you two," I tell him, and watch as he stares at me, deciphering the sincerity of my words. When I show him I mean business, he begins to gather his half-eaten burger into its wrapper and slides out of the booth.

He pauses before standing up, his butt resting at the very edge of the booth. "I hope we can catch up more later, Stan. Nice chatting with you."

He scoots himself one more inch and I watch as my hand involuntarily reaches out, clasping onto his arm and bracing him to the table. "Stay. I won't ask about it again," I hear myself say, though I'm not sure when I gave myself permission to say such a thing.

"I need to be going anyway," he explains. "Perhaps I'll see you later tonight. That is, if Kyle doesn't mind."

"Sure," I reply, distracted. Distracted by the sadness in his voice, by the way he didn't have a second thought about leaving when I presented the options. By the way he expects to see me tonight, but ONLY if its okay with Kyle.

By the way that I practically begged him to stay. I turn around and watch him as he sails past the HHS clan, nodding only an acknowledgement, before depositing his trash into the receptacle and exiting the premise. Only after he's disappeared do I finish my tray and make my getaway as well. I avoid Miller's penetrating eyes as I pass their designated spot, but I'm half expecting him to confront me as I throw my trash away. After all, Jason is talking to me. That makes two of his followers that don't exactly follow his will.

Though sometimes I never know. Maybe Jason is following orders. He is getting friendlier with me, and I with him…even if it's begrudgingly. For all I know this _is_ part of the plan to recruit me, but it doesn't seem like it. Jason seems…genuine with his persistence, so who knows. It's probably best if I continue to play it by ear and keep an eye on him just in case he decides to…

I let out a long sigh and eye the area around me. It's getting harder and tiring to question the motive of every person I come in contact with. Not that I'm letting my guard down, it just tires me out now. I sometimes envision JV as an ordinary and normal college. I'd have a ton of friends, I'd have Kyle, I'd be the star pitcher, that'd be usual. Then again, such words have been nothing but the antonyms of my entire life. I don't know why I assumed college would be any different, probably because it's not in South Park.

Just thinking about the small little town makes me feel a bit homesick. For my family, my friends, and everything there. Sometimes, more now than before since Austin left, I ask myself why I'm still here. Why I don't just drag Kyle's ass kicking and screaming back to our redneck town? I could lock him in my parent's basement. Kenny would help, I know he would, and we have the chains down there. It's a perfect set up. I should just do it. Right now. Grab him, go, and leave this whole HHS mess behind us.

Why DON'T I just do that? There are a thousand schools out there that teach architecture, engineering too. We don't have to be at JV.

Before I can even start marching myself toward the building Kyle is having class in, I realize why I haven't done something so drastic. Why I've never told his mom or anyone besides Kenny of the issues I have with this school. Because Kyle likes it. He loves it here. He loves his stupid fucking cult, and if he leaves it, I want it to be so because he chooses to, not because I dragged him away by blindfolding and drugging him. Though those aren't bad ideas…

Stop it, Stan. You don't have to resort to violence to get Kyle to succumb to your wishes. All you have to do is…

…is…

"Stan!" Kyle exclaims, distracting me from my devious thoughts. He's entering the building as I'm exiting it. We hardly ever cross paths during midday like this.

"Hey," I greet back, our lips automatically connecting as soon as he touches my arm. "I was just on my way out."

"I see that," he notes. "Will you be back after practice today?"

I nod. We go to dinner together routinely now. When I get back from baseball, he's waiting for me and we head out. And we're even to the point that he doesn't expect us to sit with the other HHS members. It's our alone time. Our own little section of the mess hall to ourselves. I love it.

"I'll see you then," I tell him and he acknowledges this fact, grinning, before he heads over to the HHS clan, namely Miller. And when he reaches them, singling Miller out and lightly touching him on the arm, I don't flinch. What used to piss me off in the beginning no longer affects me. Because I know that Kyle and I aren't going anywhere. I know what I mean to him now. And it won't be long before I can get him to prove this by choosing me over that damn club.

---

"So…" Kyle starts out casually as he towel dries his hair. We're in our room, doing the getting-ready-for-class routine. Conversation thus far has been light, with a few time-outs when one of us is insistent on kissing the other. Point being, there haven't been any awkward suspicious lulls like Kyle is creating now.

"Yes?" I prod him as I go through my bag. I'm missing my Calculus book.

"You and Jason seem to be getting along lately. He's told me you two have lunch together practically everyday now."

I freeze in my attempts to find my book. I figured Kyle would find out about that eventually. It's not that I've been hiding it from him; I've just never thought to bring it up.

"We're okay," I say lightly and go back to searching the room for my book.

"Just okay?" Kyle tosses his towel on his bed and turns to look at me. A small smile is starting to worm its way onto his lips. "Seems better than okay, AND you and Miller haven't had a confrontation in DAYS."

"What are you getting at?" I question, slightly irritated by the tone he's using. He seems far too amused.

"Nothing, I just knew you guys would get along. I've always known that."

"We do not get along. He's just company, would you rather have me eat by myself like a loner?"

"Of course not," he's fully smiling now, not even trying to hide it. "I'm just…a little surprised. You were so resistant at first. Had I known all I had to do was get Austin to leave the school I would have…" he trails off when I glare at him. "Anyway I'm just glad you like each other now."

"I just said I don't like him," I mutter.

"Mhm hm," he says in response and reaches under his bed to magically pull out my Calculus book. He hands it to me with that same smile on. I opt to frown at it before taking my book and stuffing it in my bag.

"How did that-" I begin, completely distracted and wondering if my books have sprouted legs to walk across the room without me knowing.

"Not important," he dismisses, pulling me in for another kiss. "What IS important, however, is tonight."

I attempt to continue my routine, halfway getting ready, and halfway watching him get ready. He senses this and gives me a genuine laugh, knocking me out of my Kyle-induced afterglow. "What?" I ask dumbly.

He ignores my obliviousness and repeats himself, mildly annoyed. "I SAID, what we need to discuss is tonight."

"What's tonight?" I locate my calculator and stuff it inside my book bag.

He answers without looking at me. "Mil needs me for something…you're going to have to eat without me," he admits sheepishly.

True, he isn't openly honest with me about what he's doing and where he's going, but we've gotten to the point that he can tell me he's doing something HHS related without going so far as to telling me what it is. I already know anything with that jerk Miller is HHS-related, and he already knows how I feel about it. We avoid confrontation by simply ignoring the truth. I'm not sure how much longer this will continue, but I'm getting used to it right now. And I'm okay with it.

But ditching me at dinnertime, I'm not okay with. This is the second time this week he's done it. Against my better judgment, I feel my next question rolling off my tongue before I can catch it in my mouth. "What are you two doing now," I say with a sigh.

He pulls his shirt over his head and looks at me. "You know I'd tell you if I could."

"Yeah," I reply automatically, familiar with that response.

He grabs his shoes and heads over to the bed to put them on. "This is a perfect opportunity to get together with Jason. Why don't you invite him over?"

"To our _dorm_?" I affirm, not at all thrilled with that idea. Not too thrilled Miller is taking Kyle away either.

"Sure. Or to dinner. I shouldn't be out too late." He slides his left shoe over his heel, stands up, and jogs over to me. "I don't want you to be lonely," he teases, pinching my cheek. I narrow my eyes and swat his hand away.

"I think I'll just eat dinner here, alone," I add when he brightens slightly. Kyle sighs at my reply while grabbing his coat.

"You meant the whole loner thing in jest, I get that, but I am a little worried about your lack of a social life here," Kyle says. Before I can protest he's taking my jacket and draping it over my shoulders. "Put your arms through," he mutters and I do so. "I really wish you would have Jason over," he's starting to button my coat and I lean my head back slightly to roll my eyes upward and control my sighing urges. He's doing this cute little dressing me thing just to get to me, I know he is.

"It would do you both some good," he puts in when I don't respond.

"What does that mean?" I lower my head to meet his gaze. He seems stuck on getting a middle button in its hole and it looks like he's paying more attention to it than me.

"Well Jason is without a doubt a devoted…person."

He means a devoted HHS member. "But?" I question.

"But…" he pauses. "No, never mind," he resolves as he finishes the work on my coat.

"Wait," I grab his wrist. "What were you going to say?"

"It's nothing. Look at the time, we have to get going to class, hurry up and put your shoes on," Kyle successfully steps away from me as he changes the subject.

I stare at him and frown. "Are you going to tie my laces for me too, mommy?" I mock lightly. Though inwardly, I'm disappointed my question was sideswiped like old times. Every time I think Kyle and I have reached a pinnacle of understanding, he brings me down a peg to the inferior obedient puppy again. Sometimes I think that's what how he sees me.

Instead of any further comment, he growls at me and snakes his arm around to my ass, grabbing hold. "You're so hot." I return his kiss and he lets me go to grab his own book bag. "See you later tonight, Stan."

I mouth bye and raise my hand modestly, but don't follow him. The door slams shut and I continue to nod my head, acknowledging his exit. It pisses me off when he does that. What does he have to hide anyway? I've already reassured myself ten times over again that there's NOTHING going on between him and Miller. So why does he like to push my buttons like that?

Maybe I SHOULD call up Jason. After all, what's the fun of being alone on a Friday night when your boyfriend is giving you permission to go out and have fun? I think I can suck it up long enough to hang out with the guy. He's not…_all_…bad.

But he's not all good too! I rush to think that, and after doing so, I chide myself for even fighting myself on it. I mean, so what if I end up liking Jason? That's okay, it doesn't mean anything. It doesn't mean I like his club or what he stands for. It's the exact same situation I have with Kyle…granted, it's less intense. I'll just play this whole thing by ear, kinda like I have been. Ky is right though. Jason and I have been spending a lot more time together. One additional evening means nothing right? Right.

I nod to myself and hoist my bag over my chest before leaving the room. Kyle is long gone by the time I get into the hallway and I don't see him as I walk out the building. He can disappear so fast sometimes, it's kinda creepy.

By the time I get to my calc class I'm one of the last people, but that doesn't matter. I just slide into a seat in the back and try to ease my brain around the formulas. For once class isn't that bad, and I think I'm actually starting to grasp this new topic. Though a major exam is coming up and I really ought to start looking for a tutor if I want to stay in this school. But I'll think about that later.

Now that my math class has whizzed by, I'm half torn between filling up my stomach and going back to the dorm. It's Friday afternoon and all, but I could do with a short nap. Just one of those pick-me-up ones. But my stomach IS rumbling…

As I decide food is necessary first and foremost, I stop dead in my tracks when I see Miller and his cronies hanging outside the mess building chatting. I whip on my heel and head straight for the dorm rooms. I don't feel the need for a confrontation, stomach be damned.

"Stan!" A voice calls out and I squeeze my fist to my side. I was SO close to getting away unnoticed. "Hey, cafeteria is in the other direction," Jason adds as he jogs up right next to me.

"Yeah," I rub the back of my neck looking at my dorm building longingly. "I was gonna pass today."

"You?!" Oddly enough, he doesn't seem amused by this as rather genuinely appalled at the idea. I frown at this; I am more than just a gluttonous human!

I turn to him and scowl. "Yes, even carnivorous pigs can have their days of rest."

He laughs, and we continue walking again. He stays right by my side, calling out to Miller and the rest and letting them know he's leaving. "Where you off to now then?"

"The butcher shop," I reply. "If I can get to the meat before the rest of you do-"

"Oh knock it off," he suddenly snaps at me, slapping my arm. It's gentle, but I'm more shocked at the movement than anything. Jason hasn't laid a finger on me since that confrontation in the hallway. He knows I still remember that vividly. "I was only joking. Where are you really going?"

"Back to the room. I'm tired," I tell him honestly. Out of the corner of my eye, I see his shoulders fall.

"It's just as well. I've got class in 15 anyway."

"Yeah…" I avoid his eye contact, though I can feel them piercing right into me. Dammit, Kyle told him I was going to ask him about tonight, I just know it. That's why he singled me out and is waiting awkwardly like this. I guess there's no use in delaying the inevitable. I stop and face him. "What are you doing after class?

At this, his eyes light up. "Preferably hanging out with you."

"…Right." Does he _have_ to sound sorta kinda almost like Kenny when he says that? It's distracting. "Umm…" I attempt to start again. You'd think I was nervous about asking him on a date rather than asking if he wants to come chill in my dorm for a few hours while Kyle's out playing with Miller.

I suddenly shudder and decide I'm never going to word Kyle's Miller-time like that again…or as Miller-time, for that matter.

"Stan?" Jason questions and I shake my head slightly to tune myself back into the present. I'm off in my own world entirely too often since coming to this damn school.

"Sorry, anyway Kyle is going to be out tonight."

"Having discussions with Miller," Jason nods as he eggs me on.

"Sure," I answer. "So if you do want to hang out, I'll be in my room just watching a movie or something."

"Sounds like fun!" He pipes in without a moment's hesitation. I allow a small smile to pierce my face over his enthusiasm. It's nice to have someone excited to hang out with me. As much as I love and miss Austin, the word 'excitement' and him rarely went hand in hand. "What time should I come over?"

"Six?" I question back shrugging.

"Six it is then, I'll bring dinner if you provide the movie?"

I take a moment to think, "how do you feel about Poseidon?"

"Best movie ever made."

I grin. "That's what I like to hear. I'll see you at six then?"

Jason nods and smiles, and we give each other slight waves before he turns and heads back towards Miller's group. He says something brief to them before walking off, probably heading for his afternoon class.

I head back to the room myself, hoping to catch up on some much needed rest before Stan and Jason fun time begins.

I don't think that works either. Maybe I'll stay away from nicknames from here on out…

I'm surprised at how easily I sleep through both lunch and snack time. When I wake up, it's a little after 5:30, and my stomach isn't the slightest bit hungrier than normal. Of course, it's growling like a pack of bloodthirsty wolves. I take the liberty and order some pizza in hopes that Jason doesn't mind I honed in on his responsibility. I'm impatient. We'll see if he likes double cheese, double sausage, and double green peppers. It's become my new favorite from the delivery place outside of JV. They skimp on all their toppings.

When 6:00 rolls around, my hunger as been upgraded, and I'm pretty eager for Jason to come so we can start this process of bonding, or whatever. Really, I just miss social contact. Kyle's right. I do need to work on my social life. Hell, I shouldn't be sitting indoors waiting for someone to come to me. After tonight, I'm going to make a solid effort to get out there more. HHS or not, the people in this school can't be as threatening as Austin and I once thought they were.

I sigh. Austin. The guy who would pick off all of his green peppers and sausages and put them on my half. He was content with boring old cheese pizza. I haven't talked to him other than the first night to make sure he made it back to Kenny's okay. I bet they're doing well though. They seemed to bond quicker than he and I did. I wish that didn't bug me so much—they both need someone right now.

Impatiently, I stare at my watch every two minutes. It's 6:15, and neither the pizza guy nor Jason has shown up. Fuck, I hope he didn't get my hopes up only to laugh at my expense. Maybe I'm quick to trusting him. After all, he IS one of them.

When the clock on the DVD player hits 6:20, I get a phone call that the pizza man is in the lobby. It takes me precisely four minutes to get down there, pay him, and get back up here before I'm sitting in the room with a piping hot mildly satisfying pizza and no one to share it with. Is he standing me up?!

He has no right to do so! Not when we're on the brink of…um, friendshiphood. Yeah, Kenny constantly ditched me, but that was different. Our friendship had been established, and I knew that even though I'd be pissed at him the following day, we'd be cool later on. Jason and I are not at that level yet! I should have known better than to trust HHS scum! This is probably part of some plan to make me finally feel comfortable in this school only to have a laugh at my expense later on.

Just as I'm about to compare myself to the nerdy girl who gets asked out by the captain of the football team as a dare gone bad, there's a knock on my door. That'd better NOT be Jason. I'm no longer in any mood to see him.

I stomp over to the door and whip it open. Standing there, looking down at his feet, is the asshole in question. I glare daggers at his head, willing him to feel my anger and frustration. Does he think this is funny or something?! I was starting to…trust him.

"Who even bothers to show up an hour late?" I ask dully. I'd been venting to myself for that long.

At the sound of my voice, his eyes travel upwards. He refuses to look me in the eye, but I can see that something is visibly wrong.

"An hour late, and you didn't even bring food," I say again, slightly letting up on my bitterness the more I see his pained expression.

He forces a smile of apology on his face, and I allow him to enter. As he unbuttons his jacket, the words begin formulating. "I'm sorry, Stan. Truly, I am. I wasn't expecting to…Well, I'm just sorry. I had this all mapped out, I was going to pile up my tray high with every kind of food in the cafeteria, and when I got there…I just couldn't do it. I," his voice is so distant, and I think he realizes he's rambling because he looks at me, his eyes alert. "I mean…I didn't have enough money to do it."

"So you sulked for an hour before coming to terms with it and showing up empty handed?" I joke. I can barely believe the lighthearted tone I'm giving him.

He laughs, but it's forced too. I can tell this. "I was embarrassed."

Oh, I get it. He had some kind of HHS thing he forgot to do, and he had to get that out of the way before he came to see me. Well, at least he sped up THAT process so he COULD come here, unlike a certain redhead I know…

"Don't worry about it," I tell him, finding my anger and resentment evaporating into thin air at the sight of his plight. Maybe something happened, or maybe he really did feel guilty for being late. Whatever it is, I'm sure he'll snap out of it so we can watch the movie. He drops his jacket and I gesture to my bed, where he opts to take a seat before I really say its okay. I see his eyes traveling to the empty pizza box. "You were late," I say as an excuse. "I was hungry."

He waves the thought away with his hand. "I'm glad you ate already." I don't respond to him, but rather watch as he stares at the box for a several seconds. Finally, he looks up to the TV. "So, what now?"

I shrug and plop right down on the ground after grabbing a few of our pillows from Kyle's bed.

Jason looks over the unmade sheets. "Kyle doesn't strike me as the messy type," he voices.

I look over to where he is. "Oh, he's not, I was taking a nap."

"Isn't that…Kyle's bed?" he asks, the thoughts formulating in his brain the minute he's asking the question. His eyes give me a signal that he wants that conversation to halt, and he goes back to staring at the pizza box. What the hell is his deal?

"Yeah," I answer quickly and change the subject to more pressing matters. "Dude what's the matter with you?" I finally just come out and ask. He's being weird, weirder than he usually is. His annoying spark of happiness has vanished and it has been replaced with this air of distance.

"What do you mean?" he asks slowly, only tearing his eyes away from the stupid pizza box _after_ I nudge him with my hand.

"That!" I say gesturing my hand at him. "You're acting like a lifeless doll. You're not overly happy to see me, you're staring at a pizza box for Christ's sake!"

Jason goes quiet again and I can tell he wants to turn his head away again, but I make my gaze more penetrating to make him keep our eye contact. "It's nothing," he says after awhile. "I guess I'm just a little tired…exams coming up and all."

I lean away and fold my arms to scowl at him. I really hate being lied to, and with Kyle not necessarily lying to me, but with all his secrets, I cannot take anymore from anyone else.

"Maybe you should try answering that question again," I tell him bluntly. He doesn't, and I sigh as I reach out to grab my cell phone. "Fine, I'll call Kyle and ask him if Miller can come pry it out of you, then you can go back with him seeing how you two are SUCH good friends and we're not."

You'd think those were his cue words because all of a sudden Jason's face hardens. "Don't call that prick my friend," he hisses out through narrowed eyes.

My thumbs is already set to press the 'send' button to call Kyle, but now I'm staring at Jason all aghast with my mouth hanging open. Did he just call Miller what I think he called him? It must be another Miller, either that, or something really is wrong with Jason.

"No," I shake my head slowly. "No I think I should find a way to call him, something really isn't right with you."

"I'm not an invalid!" He snaps, "and I don't want his help…not anymore. He's a lying bastard and I…" Jason hangs his head and I see as he squeezes his fists together in his lap. "I still fell for him hook line and sinker, just like the rest of them."

I can only imagine my facial expressions as he finishes that sentence. He doesn't want his help? Lying bastard? Hook, line and sinker? _Like the rest of them_? What the HELL did Miller do now?

"Uh…" I stammer, unsure of how to further this conversation, but knowing that I want to and need to. I remove my finger from the button of the phone and flip it closed, setting it down beside me. Jason won't look at me, but I can see that he is fuming. His eyebrows are creased and he's staring at the DVD menu screen. "Did you and the almighty Miller have a fight?" I venture, earning a growl from the seething man on my bed.

"Let's just watch the damn movie," he mutters, forcefully grabbing a pillow and propping it behind his head.

I've never seen him like this. I've never seen him…angry. Austin told me of all the times he pissed Danny off, but it wasn't really anything to take seriously. He was bright and smiling the next minute. This, however, seems different. He's not going to smile. And I'm not going to cross him. Immediately, I honor his request, pressing play on the menu.

The next twenty or so minutes go by exceedingly slowly. I hear him breathing out loudly, as though he's trying to calm himself down. I can't really concentrate on the movie, though I really want to. The special effects are spectacular. I mean, it's a whole boat flipped over! God, they're brave.

"This movie fucking sucks," I voice aloud, trying to get a response from Jason. I feel sacrilegious just saying so, but I know I can say anything and he's not going to comment. His mind is somewhere else.

Sure enough, he just stares ahead as if he didn't hear me. His eyes are not focused—he's looking through the picture.

I force myself to watch a few more minutes before I sigh in aggravation. "Okay, that's it. I can't take it anymore, you aren't even paying attention. What did Miller do?!?"

"It's more like…" he starts out slowly. "What _didn't_ he do?"

I'm lost. "Okay, so what didn't he do?"

"He didn't…he didn't…" Jason takes a deep breath. I can tell whatever he's about to tell me is hard for him. I can already imagine why. Miller was his leader and he more or less happily followed along, trusted the guy, got branded with a fire poker by the guy. If that doesn't scream trust, I don't know what does. Now it's clear that Miller's done something to betray that trust…

"He didn't believe in who I was."

"…Jason, you're going to have to start from the beginning. I know you're leaving a lot of things out. What does that mean, that he didn't believe in who you were?"

"Miller didn't think the situation you have with Kyle could happen between me and Austin. He obviously didn't think I could be in the HHS AND be a friend to Austin."

"…Again," I say slowly. "Maybe back things up a little bit. Since when did you mention Austin's name without a trace of hostility?"

Jason hunches his shoulders and remains quiet. He starts to pick at a loose thread in my bedding before I lean up and place a hand over his wrist to stop him. "Jason, come on, tell me what's going on."

"Ugh God," he covers his face with both his hands and falls backward onto my bed. "That means I'd have to tell you everything, and I mean _everything_."

I pick myself up off the floor and situate on the bed next to him. "Well we have all night," I point out. "Or at least until Kyle gets back."

He seems like he's mulling it over and just as I'm about to repeat myself he responds, "I overheard Kyle and Miller talking earlier today."

"Yeah?" I ask, my interest mildly piqued at this information. I've always wondered what those two talk about. Sure, I had my own overheard adventure a month ago, but other than that, I stay clear of the blonde prick. Except for when he's pitching at me, of course.

"Stan, if…" he takes a deep breath, sits back up, and looks into my eyes. "Stan, I like you, okay?"

I stare at him blankly.

He stares back at me, trying to decode my expression. Finally, his eyes widen. "No! Not like…what I mean is…I've always thought you were a cool guy. Even before Kyle and Miller set me up to distract you that one day," he fades and looks away, "which I'm sorry for, by the way. Well, even before that, I wanted to get to know you."

"…Okay." I don't see where he's going with this.

"And when you started hanging out with Austin, that really made me start to think. I felt like I knew you. Like I understood you."

I blink. "I feel…the same way?" I say it in the form of a question.

He sighs, clearing his mind of the befuddled information. "When I came here, Austin was the only guy I really felt close to. He and I were pretty inseparable for a while. He was my best friend." His reflection on the past causes his expression to sadden, I can tell.

"Austin told me that too," I tell him, wondering how he can all of the sudden talk about Austin with such regretful emotion.

He throws his head back and rests it on his arm, staring up at my ceiling. I wait patiently for him to continue the story, or the confession, or whatever it is he's going through. Finally, he shakes his head. "He was content with it just being us. He was happy being the outsiders, his only friend being me." He lifts his head to me. "But I wasn't."

Okay, I can sense where this is going. Is Jason going to tell me what happened between him and Austin? Am I going to find out why they no longer speak to each other? I press my ears closer and let him know I'm listening.

"I saw how many friends the guys of HHS had. I watched how they all seemed so close. I wanted to have that. Austin was great and all, but I wanted more. And when Miller and I had our first class together…I had that chance. He started talking to me, and," Jason looks at me again, "even though Austin kept warning me to stay away from him, I saw it as a good thing, him being my friend."

I want to interrupt and ask him how the idea of being friends with Miller could possibly be a good idea, but I don't. He's spilling his guts out to me, and right now probably wouldn't be the best of times to give him an I-told-you-so sort of moment.

"But we fought about my relationship with Miller constantly. Austin kept telling me he wasn't getting a good vibe from him or any of the HHS members, but I," he shakes his head. "I just thought he was being selfish, trying to make me the loner he was. At the same time, I didn't want to give up on him just yet so…I asked Miller if he would talk to Austin for me. Let Austin see for himself what a great guy he was."

I try to but can't hold in my snort. Jason just scoffs and nods his head as if agreeing with me.

"Anyway talk about back firing," he sighs to himself. "I obviously don't know for sure what was said between them, I wasn't there, but Miller came back and told me Austin just…ripped him to shreds. He told him to back off like expected, but Miller also told me that Austin started to tear ME apart! Saying how I was nothing but a weak pathetic person to follow him blindly! I was told he just kept bad mouthing me and I was so…hurt that he would say that about me."

"You believed what Miller told you?!" That slips from my mouth before I can control. "How could you believe him? Austin would never say anything like that!"

Jason gives me a weak sad smile, "I know that…_now_. But you gotta understand, Stan. To me, Miller was this…just this perfectly incredible guy. He was nice to everyone, he was intelligent, great at sports, good looking, and I do mean that in a completely platonic way. It was impossible for me not to idolize him. And that's what he was to me, an idol. Someone I could never be, and I didn't think he'd befriend me at all, and then when he did…I felt so honored." He laughs to himself. "I was completely taken in with that guy. He told me everything I wanted to hear."

He shifts and stands up. He starts to pace the small room and I can do nothing but watch him.

"It sounds so ridiculous now, but I got so swept in by Miller's popularity and of being liked, I couldn't believe that he had hand picked _me_ to be his good friend. The guy to stand by him, to eat next to him, I mean shit! When I say it now, it sounds like what I never imagined it was. I was being influenced, converted, deceived, fuck Stan, I was being brainwashed!"

I stand up with him and gesture my hands wildly. "OF COURSE YOU WERE!" I yell, surprisingly out of breath. "How could you EVER believe a goddamned word coming out of that asshole's mouth? How could you believe him over _Austin_? Wow, Jason…" My shoulders drop and I look at him sympathetically. He was lost. He was so lost…

He sighs exasperatedly. "I know." Shaking his head, he repeats, "I know."

I pause to recollect my newfound knowledge and frown. "So did you ever confront Austin about all this? After Miller told you that shit, did you ever think to ASK Austin about it?"

"Sure I did!" he cries. "I confronted him about it the next possible minute! But, you know Austin. He was so pissed off that he never actually _denied_ saying it. He just kept muttering 'I can't believe you'd think that' and 'I guess I know where you stand' and other various forms of the truth. He never said 'no, Danny, I would never say that about you, why would you think I ever would?' which was what I was looking for."

I smile suddenly, realizing it feels good to hear Jason call himself Danny. I've never heard him say that before. But the warm feeling lasts only momentarily before I press further. "So it was never resolved," I presume.

He looks at me, shaking his head again. "That was the end of the year last year, we had all summer to reconcile, but he was stubborn, and I…I was falling further into the deception. When he came back in August, I had already found another roommate—HHS, of course—and had erased him from my memory. I didn't need someone like that in my life."

I sigh out of frustration. "But he's NOT someone like that! And you know that now!" Pausing, I look over at him, grabbing his arm and stopping him from his occasional pace. "How _did_ you find out that Miller was lying?"

"I told you I overheard him and Kyle talking today."

The air around us is still for a few moments. What does Kyle have to do with all of this? Did he have anything to do with Danny and Austin severing ties? No, he wasn't HERE last year. How-

Jason finishes my thoughts for me. "Kyle told Miller how you were trying to reunite Austin and me."

I growl under my breath. That was PRIVELEGED information! That was SUPPOSED to be private! He wasn't supposed to SHARE it with my sworn arch nemesis! What the hell was he thinking?!

Goddammit! I adore that guy but sometimes…ugh, I'll just let this go for now and deal with his gossiping ass later.

"Did he?" I grind my teeth together to respond to Jason. "What exactly were they saying?"

Jason looks somewhat hesitant, "was Kyle not supposed to tell Mill that?"

"Never mind it!" I almost bark at him. "What was it that you overheard?"

He finally sits himself back down, now choosing my desk chair rather than the bed. "I didn't hear it all, but I heard everything I needed to know. They were in one of the rooms the HHS has conference meetings in when we go over information regarding the whole organization."

"Wait," I interrupt him. "The whole organization?"

"Yeah, it's a nationally recognized club just like the National Honor Society. We're just a…secretive rank that only a selective amount of people knows about. Anyway, they were in one of the meeting rooms, and I was only going there to grab some paperwork that I had meant to pick up yesterday. I heard their voices from outside the door and the first clear thing I heard was Austin's name so I didn't make my presence known. I figured I'd just lean against the wall and wait for them to finish up. I arrived just in time to hear Kyle tell Miller that you were trying to hook me and Austin back up."

Just hearing him say that again almost gets my blood to boil. I will KILL Kyle the second I see him next.

"What'd Miller think of that?" I question curiously.

Jason stares right at me his face still, his eyes unblinking. "He said that could never happen because he personally made SURE we'd NEVER be friends again."

I narrow my eyes slightly. I can envision him saying that in that clear haughty voice of his. I can see it perfectly.

"Kyle didn't know what he was talking about so he asked, and Miller," Jason pauses and I notice he's trying to stay calm as he shakes his head in disbelief. "You know, even though Kyle asked, I didn't think Miller would tell him. No one except him knows the details of the break between Austin and me, and yet he told Kyle after a lighthearted laugh. As if they were speaking about the fucking weather or something…I knew Kyle was different to him. Special…" Jason trails off thinking about what he just said. Personally I don't like it, but even I can tell the difference between how Miller treats Kyle from everyone else. It's unnerving and it's a big reason for why I hate him so much.

"Anyway," Jason blinks away the thought and continues. "So he laughed about it, and then without a moments hesitation of what he was doing, that he was betraying ME by telling someone my personal information, he just told Kyle. Like it was nothing, like it was no big deal."

"That's low," I mutter. "Even for Miller."

Jason's eyes are starting to get glossy, but he fights any emotion back to remain as composed as possible. "Some of the things he said, Stan…it's amazing how quickly your opinion of someone can change. I not only despise him as a leader. I despise him as a human being. I can't believe how foolish I've been. I can't believe I ever FELL for that!"

I sigh, rubbing my arms up and down and leaning against the wall next to him. "You're not the only one."

He laughs. "What he told Kyle…I'm surprised I didn't blow my cover and bust his ass right then and there."

Again, my curiosity rises. "What did he say?"

"He told him how he had to keep Austin and I apart, how it was for the good of the group. And when Kyle asked if everyone hating Austin was just because of what he supposedly did, Miller laughed again. He said that Austin was just 'a pain in his ass' and he used me, and our friendship, to alienate him further.

It's obvious that Miller never liked him, even before I became a member." He looked down at the floor. "I wonder if the only reason he singled me out was to somehow ruin Austin…"

I shake my head and shift positions. "I doubt it. He's just a spiteful inhuman liar. And anyway, it doesn't matter what he wanted you for, you know now why the only TRUE friend you had is not here anymore. Why he's living with my buddy Kenny cause he couldn't wait to get the hell out of here." I lean up and take a seat on the bed, directly in front of Jason. "He told me he'd finally given up on you. It took him nearly a year before he got to that point."

Jason looks at me and breaks down, laughing to cover up his sorrow. "I am such an idiot. SUCH an idiot!"

I shrug. "Dude, it's not like you are blind to it anymore! It isn't too late to make amends, you know."

Shaking his head, he ignores me. "Stan, you were so smart to stay away. I know how dedicated Kyle is, and I know it must've been hard for you. But you made the right decision."

I smile at his praising words. I knew there was a reason Austin didn't give up on him…

Faintly, he smiles back, but it melts into a frown. "There's something you need to know."

"What?" I'm instantly alert. "Is it about Kyle?"

"No, no, actually…it's about you."

"Me?"

He nods and bites his lip turning his eyes from me, "this whole revelation about how Mill was so dead set on separating me and Austin reminded me of something."

"Yeah?" I urge him on.

"Seems he likes that particular method of getting what he wants. He did it with me and now he's doing it with Kyle. Stan, you know Miller does not like you."

"How'd you guess?" I snort out.

"And he's been dead set, since the beginning, of separating you and Kyle."

"Why is that again?"

"I told you because for some reason, one I cant even begin to explain, Kyle is different in Miller's eyes. He just wants all of Kyle's devotion, but the thing is, what angered him from the start was you. From the second Kyle joined the HHS, all he could talk about was how much he couldn't wait until his best friend Stan showed up at JV. That was like a bullet through Miller's heart."

"…Am I supposed to be sympathetic?" I ask after a moment.

"Of course not. What I'm getting at is while Miller doesn't like you, he does like Kyle. He does all he can for him, and Kyle…wanted you in the HHS…and the HHS allows ten new members every year, five a semester. ONLY upon the current president's approval, so even though Miller doesn't care for you, he allowed Kyle to…nominate you. After reviewing your credentials and doing a lot of things the government only wishes it could do, it was agreed upon by the majority that you were a perfect candidate to…to recruit."

"The HHS wants me as their next member," I state.

He looks back at me with a sorrowful look on his face, "yes. That's why they've been so nice to you lately."

"Hmm," I nod to myself. "Well I already knew that. I knew they wanted me for a long time now."

Jason doesn't even attempt to hide his surprise. "Wha, how…who, how do you know that?"

Now I'm wondering how much I should divulge. Jason's told me everything I've ever wanted to know concerning him and Austin. He's called Miller out on being the asshole that he is. It seems only fair to tell him what I know.

"I sorta…I sorta I snuck into an HHS meeting a few weeks back."

"You…what?" he whispers out.

I nod. "It was after Kyle attacked me, I just had to know what was fueling him. And I knew it had something to do with that damn cult of his. So I made up my mind to follow him," I explain, realizing that I've called it a cult and Jason hasn't corrected me this time.

"And you _got away_ with it?" he inquires incredulously. "That's damn near impossible, Stan!"

I scoff. "Tell me about it. I was pent up below a desk until dawn for fear of getting caught. Miller knew there was an intruder. I was lucky."

"Wait," he tells me, putting his hand up in a stop sign. "Kyle attacked you?"

"He…yeah, you could call it that. What's important is that it urged me to find out what's up and…well, it wasn't pretty."

He leans in closer to me, thoroughly absorbed in what I'm saying and like he's waiting on me to tell a story. "What did you see?" he asks me, as if he wasn't there himself.

I bite my lip, hesitating on the words in my mouth. I look at him as he looks at me with intrigue, and my thoughts immediately zoom to what I remember most. "How long did it take for you to heal? I can't imagine the amount of pain it caused you," I reply.

He frowns as if he doesn't quite comprehend. But I raise my eyebrows, stare deep into his eyes, and he gasps.

"When I told Austin you had that done, I think that was his first clue that you were serious about the cult. It was a blow to his belief that you could be saved." I laugh to myself. "It was a blow to _my_ belief that I could save Kyle."

"I can't believe you saw that," he says finally. "I can't believe a lot of things."

"Kyle doesn't hide his from me anymore. I know it's there, but we've never discussed what it is." I look at him with concerned eyes. "Why would you let Miller do something like that to your body? It's permanent, Jason!"

"I know that," he states dully. "Shit, and Austin knows about it too!"

"He couldn't believe how much you'd fallen."

His face drops into his hands as he mutters something incomprehensible. The shock of his day—finding out his life has been based on a lie—is no doubt confusing. I can't imagine what he must be going through right now.

Jason pops up abruptly, his eyes staring out the window. "There's a charter headed for Denver in an hour."

Okay. That sounds…random.

He meets my eye, "I'm going to be on it."

My eyes widen and I lunge onto Jason before he reaches my door. "Wait a second! Hang on for a minute! You can't just…leave."

"Austin did," he says plainly.

"Austin had been planning it all for a few days behind my back! What about school, your friends, the HHS?" I can't believe that I, of all people, am saying that.

"Schools come and go, I can fix my transfer things later and all my friends, as you call them, are bastard HHS members, as for the HHS? Well…I admit, I've never heard of anyone leaving it before. But that's only because everyone's so loyal. It's not like they'll kill me or anything."

We both stop moving to stare hard at each other for a second.

Jason quickly attempts to shake me off him, "they're not going to kill me," he mutters in slight irritation. It was a bit much of us to even consider it for a moment, though sometimes you really never know with the extremist groups.

"Jason you can't just leave!" I almost shout.

"What am I supposed to do, Stan?" he growls. "Everything I have here is complete and utter bullshit. The one good friend I did have_left_ because he thought I'd abandoned him! I can't possibly look Miller in the face ever again. I can't look any of these guys in the face, and do you really think I could go to another HHS meeting?! No way, I have to get the hell out of here."

This isn't reasonable at all! He can't walk out of a college and not come back! I mean…can he? He tries to yank his arm away from me again but I continue to latch onto him.

"Dude, let go!" He scowls down at me.

"You're being ridiculous! You can't leave in the dead of the night without a plan!"

"Fine!" He manages to shrug me off and glances at my desk. "Do you have a pen and paper?"

"Obviously," I say cautiously as I eye him before rummaging through all my crap to get him what he's asking for. I hold them out to him once I find them. He takes them and starts jotting down something. I peer over his shoulder and see that it's an address and a phone number.

"Send all my personal belongings to that address when you get the chance. The number is my cell and…if you don't mind passing it on to Austin, I'd appreciate it."

"Wait a second-" I start but he interrupts.

"That's my parents address, I'll explain everything…well, what I can to them, on the bus. They'll understand. They didn't want me going here anyway. Ironically enough, they said they had a bad feeling about the place." He snorts again and shakes his head. "I seem to love ignoring people's instincts. Anyway, I've got a good savings account and a good credit limit. I'll wire you money to send all my packages, in the mean time I'm packing a bag and taking that charter bus."

"But-"

"No," he shuts me up again. "Thanks though for being a bud toward the end of all this, even if it's only because I kinda made you," he grins slightly but it doesn't stay on his face.

"But Danny-"

We both halt our conversation abruptly at the sound of the door being opened. We glance at each other before Kyle walks into the room. He stops before setting a foot in the door to stare back at us. "What?" he asks slowly.

Jason turns back to me and claps my shoulder. "Thanks," he says and pats it again before brushing past me. Kyle's looking at him oddly before the same look is cast toward me. He suddenly stops when he reaches Kyle's side to, in a way, take us both in.

"You two…" he says, his eyes darting between us. "You two are something else." He gives Kyle a pat on the back and he jumps in surprise. "See you Kyle, Stan," he adds nodding at me before slipping through door. "Call me anytime Stan, I'll want to hear from you!" he yells out when he's in the hallway.

I manage to shake off the surprise at how sudden his departure was to walk past Kyle and peer my head out. I'm just in time to see a flash of his brunette hair disappear through the stairway door.

"Danny…" I mutter.

"What was that about?" At the sound of Kyle's confused question, I turn back to him. He's taking off his jacket and setting it on his chair.

I narrow my eyes and somewhat slam the door in response, heading over to my bed with a full head of steam. The past half hour or so has been a whirlwind of emotions and a lot of actions have been set into motion that cannot be undone. I'm not sure when my life became so chaotic, and it's hard for me to keep up with information that changes every five seconds. All I know is that I'm pretty pissed off by it all. And my boyfriend is directly to blame.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Kyle shrug, looking down at his bed. "Jesus, Stan, you might try making up our bed when guests are over." He walks over and picks the pillow I was using when watching the movie off the floor. "You might scare our friends away."

I scoff at the word 'friends' as I spy the pizza box and get up to throw it in the trash. Without word, I stuff it by our already full trashcan before falling back onto my bed, stomach first.

Moments later, I feel Kyle's hands on my sides, coercing me to turn over. I wiggle out of his grasp and lay back down, undisturbed. Kyle follows up with leaning over me and trying to kiss me, his hands once again on my side and trying to flip me.

I grunt out of annoyance and form a fist to jab him in the gut with my elbow. Not surprisingly, he retreats a few steps, his ego bruised more than his stomach.

"Hey, what the HELL, Stan?" he snaps, and I roll over to look at him.

"I'm sleeping _here_ tonight," I inform him.

He rubs the assaulted body part. "Fine by me," he grumbles and turns back to his bed. "It'll give a chance for whatever crawled up your ass to die."

At this, I throw my hands on my pillow and sit up, glaring daggers at him. "Fuck you, Kyle. Fuck you, fuck Miller, and fuck that goddamn club of yours." At times like this, I REALLY wish I had somewhere else to crash. If it wasn't for that bastard Miller, Austin would still be here, and I wouldn't have a fight with my boyfriend every fucking day over the insanity of his choices. I really hate that guy.

"Fuck you!" he retorts, unsure of why I'm so upset. I'm in no mood to explain. I'm worn out, and I don't feel like talking anymore. "What's the matter with you?!"

"You'll find out tomorrow," I mutter, throwing my head back onto my bed and pushing the pillow over my face. And I mean just that. He'll know what's happened when he wakes up and finds that Jason isn't there. And that he's not coming back.

"I'll find out tomorrow?! How about I find out now?!" I hear his muffled voice demand.

"It'll all make sense come tomorrow, I'm sure we'll hear the gossip first thing in the morning, and now if you could shut up so I could get some goddamn sleep, it'd be much appreciated."

He says something else that I don't quite catch but I'm sure I didn't need to hear, as it sounded more like an insult than anything else. I'm choosing to ignore him now. I don't care if it pisses him off, I'M pissed off that Miller gets to know things that should be kept between the two of us.

Jason's sudden departure is going to be all over school tomorrow and no doubt the first person that will be questioned will be me. After all, I was the last person with him. The thought makes me weary and I don't even want to think about what Miller's going to say to me. Though it's hard not to think that if one devoted member can leave the HHS, another certainly can.

I'd say its Kyle's turn.

- **iBB **and _**f**_** G**


	16. XV The Deviation

**AN: **So apparently we type too much and what was supposed to be one chapter turned out so long we had to split it up. Again. So, in honor of the newest trilogy (Imaginationland), we bring you the first installment of our next chapter. Big thanks to our reviewers, and hope you continue to enjoy!

**The Reformation of Kyle Broflovski**

**XIV. **The Deviation  
**Part I**

The first thing I notice when I wake up is how insanely bright the room is. I squint immediately, cursing at the direct sunlight blasting down on my face. Rubbing my eyes, I roll to the side to avoid the glare, but it's no use. The sun is high in the sky and has no intentions of letting me sleep any longer.

I groan, folding back my comforter and sitting up to scratch the inside of my leg. Kyle's bed is empty, of course, and it is neatly made. His side of the room looks 'tidied up'. With him nowhere in sight, I realize that this is the first morning he hasn't awaken me since we've been together. I frown at the thought only momentarily, as the memories of last night and the crazy happenings flood my mind.

Scratching the side of my head, I close my eyes partially, feeling dead to the world. I feel like I went partying all night and didn't crash until sometime early this morning. But as I peer at the clock and note that it is, in fact, half past ten, I know that isn't the case. I slept for more than twelve hours, and I haven't done that in a long time. I don't know how I did it either, because the way my mind is racing, I'd think I wouldn't be able to relax even for a brief nap.

Obviously that wasn't the case.

Grudgingly, I stand up and shuffle over to my closet, pulling out all my necessary morning bathroom items. I drop my boxers and snatch up a towel, securing it tightly around my waist before slipping on my shower shoes and heading to the bathroom. The walk seems unnecessarily long today, and I find myself dragging my feet. Gossip buzzes around me, but I choose to ignore it, especially since I have a hunch what it's about. As I reach the door, I press on it, my dorm mates' voices instantaneously flooding my ears. All of them talking about Jason.

I blink slowly and take a stand next to some guy who I think is my neighbor, but isn't HHS. He backs away from me as I reach my toothbrush, but I think nothing of it. After all, he can't know the story. He can't know the truth about what happened.

I quickly brush my teeth before stepping into the showers. It easily drowns out the noise of the guys, and I relax in that knowledge and choose to soak longer than I normally would have. Unfortunately the second I turn off the water, it all surrounds me again, and the only thing I want to do is quickly dry off and get away from it.

Rushing back into the room, I let out a long sigh and slump. This is going to be some day. Luckily for me, none of those guys really knew how often Jason and I hung out, or at least I don't think they did. If they had known, I'm sure I would have been approached about it.

"So where is he?"

"Jesus Christ!" I yell at the top of lungs and whip my head to the side to see Kyle twisting back and forth in his desk chair. He raises an eyebrow at me but his dull look doesn't change. "You scared the crap out of me," I mutter and turn to face the closest. "What are you doing sitting there like that, don't you have breakfast or something?"

"No," he answers. "There was a meeting called in by Miller early this morning. Jason seems to have vanished."

"Has he?" I ask looking through my clothes as if I'm having trouble deciding what to wear.

"Yes, and if I recall last night, you said something about how your bitchy mood would be explained by tomorrow's events. Well tomorrow is now today, so spill." His words are harsh and I can tell he is not joking around.

I ditch the act and pull a pair of jeans out, turning to glare at him. "And now my bitchy mood, as you call it," I growl at him with narrowed eyes, "IS explained."

He stares at me blankly, not accepting my answer. Not breaking eye contact, I drop my towel, climb into my jeans and button them up, and jump up and down in place to situate them.

"Start talking, Stan," he urges me with a gritty voice.

I concentrate on a spot of the floor in front of his feet and itch my eyebrow with my thumb. "I think you have something to say to me first."

He throws his head back and scoffs. "What could I POSSIBLY have to say to you? Congratulations, you did it? You got rid of one of us?"

Yanking a random shirt off the hanger, I fish for the front and pull it over my head. He's still staring at me with those beady green eyes, and I can feel my stomach constricting. "No Kyle," I mutter. "He did it all on his own."

To this, he stands up and begins moving toward me. "Did what, Stan? Left? Disappeared?" He's now standing two feet in front of me. "WHAT DID HE DO, STAN," he yells.

I take a deep breath, mustering up the courage to not knock those pretty teeth of his loose for raising his voice at me. How DARE he blame this on me! It was HIS fault! I take a step closer. "Maybe you should ask your buddy Miller," I sneer. "You don't have a problem _telling_ him anything."

He ignores my last comment. "What could MILLER possibly have to do with Jason's disappearance?"

"Keep asking yourself that question, you'll figure it out. What could Miller have said to make Jason realize what a crock of shit this place is?" I look around, pretending to think. "Hmmm…could it be that he doesn't know when to keep his mouth shut?"

"What are you rambling about now," he says mechanically, almost with a yawn.

I glare at him. "Think Kyle."

"Miller has been perfectly hospitable to Jason," he replies.

"Wrong answer. Think _harder_, Kyle. What did you two talk about in a recent conversation?" He's still staring at me flatly. "One that involved AUSTIN?" I probe, seeing his eyes mildly react.

That shuts him up. He purses his lips, unable to retaliate. He knows I've got him. He knows he's in the wrong. I'm just waiting for him to apologize for betraying me like that.

"You can't possibly know," he says, deciding that for himself.

"That Miller purposely lied to Jason to separate him and Austin? Yeah, I do know."

Kyle takes a step back as a look of mild surprise comes over his face. "And why do you know that confidential information?"

"Jason overheard it," I snarl out. "And then he told me."

"…So that explains that. That's why you're so pissy right now?"

The way he said that, it's as if he doesn't even care that his great friend Miller broke up two good friends. He makes it sound like…

"Their break up was for the good of the HHS," he says when I don't answer his question. Did he honestly just say that? That heartless sentence in that matter-of-fact tone?

"Jason said he overheard you telling Miller how I had been trying to get them back together as friends."

"And?" he presses, almost sounding annoyed.

"And? AND?! I told YOU that in secrecy!"

"When did you ever say that?"

"I didn't think I had to! It should have been implied! Why the hell would you tell Miller the second you had the chance, Kyle?!"

He frowns at me, "is this why you're mad?"

"Yes this is why I'm mad! What we talk about stays with us, it's no one else's business."

"Unless it's HHS related. Why_wouldn't_ I tell Miller? It concerned Jason, and Jason is HHS."

I want to scream out of frustration. "Jason and Austin's friendship has NOTHING to do with the HHS!" I shriek.

He blinks haughtily. "I fail to see how they don't connect."

My hands ball into tight fists, but I keep them steadily by my side. I'm practically spitting venom through my teeth and he's sitting here way too calmly. It's as if we aren't even fighting about the same things. Or as if he doesn't understand how important it is to me that we share! Share our wants, our secrets, our LIVES with each other! He simply must not feel the same way if he 'fails to see' why I'm so angry.

Why are we here again? Why am I standing only inches away from a man I call my boyfriend if he can't even grant me this one wish of sharing? Why is it so hard for him to share with me, yet he has no problems sharing MY world with Miller? Is that really where I stand?

I exhale gradually, readjusting the grip of my fingers. They're slippery from the sweat secreting out of every one of my glands. "Kyle," I begin slowly. "If you want to have a relationship with me, we have to communicate. And there are instances where I will tell you something that, regardless of its worth, you are NOT to tell ANYONE else. That includes HHS members." I focus on his eyes. "Especially Miller."

"Stan," he starts out in a similar manner as I did moments before. He takes one step closer and places his hands on my trembling arms. "If YOU want to have a relationship with me, you have to accept that I'm a member of the High Honor's Society. And there are some secrets that we cannot share with each other because of this fact. You knew this before anything ever happened between us."

I tear my eyes away from him, feeling tears of frustration form under my skin.

He continues, his hands now rubbing my arms. "You can't possibly expect me to keep something so significant from my brothers." That's the first time I've heard him use the word brother.

My fists tighten. "So what you're saying is…I can't trust you."

"No, what I'm saying is you and I became an us long after you knew where I had my loyalties. You knew very well how devoted I was to the HHS, to Miller. I thought you understood that by now?"

I back away from him, almost pushing him away. "Let me ask point blank since I'm tired of being confused about it. If you had to choose me over the HHS, would you?"

Kyle frowns but he doesn't hesitate for too long. "What kind of question is that? It's like asking if you had to pick your mother or your father, who would you pick? You'd want both of course, I also want both."

"And if you couldn't have both?!"

"Let me phrase it this way," he starts, and just the way he dodges my question again starts to anger me. "The Society has never asked me to choose between it and you because they understand how much you mean to me. I didn't think I would have to ask you to do the same."

I nod in disbelief. "I see…so you still want to know where Jason is?"

"A lot of us do, myself included." I turn around at the sound of his voice and stare at him.

"Most people knock," I tell Miller.

"I did. No one answered, but I heard voices."

"So you decided to just come on in?" I snort.

He's standing in our doorway, and I can't believe I hadn't heard the door open. It doesn't seem Kyle heard it either. I wonder how much he heard, but I'd rather die than ask exactly what it is that he heard before he decided to make his presence known.

I want to ask what the hell he's doing here anyway, but Kyle seems to sense the question and answers before I have to ask it. "I told him to stop by after we had had time to talk."

"You know," I say lightly as I grab my wallet and dorm keys. "Oddly enough, I don't feel like talking anymore."

Miller blocks my way just as I'm about to side step him and leave. I do not want to be here right now. Not with him and not with Kyle. Kyle…I just…if I stay any longer I might say or do something I'll regret.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Miller says. "But as you might have heard, gossip does travel fast, Jason has disappeared and Kyle has assured me that he was here last night with you. After talking to quite a few people, it's been realized that you were the last person he spoke with."

I choke out a laugh and retreat back to my desk chair, dropping into it and letting my keys fall to the ground. I can feel both pairs of eyes staring at me. It's like they're trapping me in here. It's all too similar to what Miller and Jason did to me months ago, only Kyle is a part of it. How could Kyle, MY Kyle be a part of this?

I watch in defeat as they come together in front of me, like two life-threatening monsters here to feed on their prey. Metaphorically speaking, of course. It just sucks that one of those monsters is my best friend.

After a brief powwow with Miller, Kyle turns to me with his face brightened. "Stan," he tries more cheerily, "we're not mad at you. We just want to get to the bottom of this." They advance toward me, entrapping me further. "You were about to tell me where Jason is. Now is as good of time as any."

"How could he all of the sudden up and leave?" Miller butts in. "What did you say to him, Stan?"

I feel like I'm being interrogated without having had my rights read. My hands might as well be cuffed to the chair, because I'm paralyzed with shock and some other emotion I can't distinguish. Betrayal doesn't even begin to cover it. Kyle is using me, using OUR bond, the way that Miller used Jason for his bond with Austin. And fuck if I'm going to let that happen.

Wiggling my fingers to maintain feeling in them, I nod my head. "It seems pretty self-explanatory to me, boys," I address them, to which Miller sneers.

"Indulge me," he advises.

I turn my attention to the blonde rat that has single-handedly turned my life upside down. "Okay," I agree. "Jason didn't leave because of anything I said or did. He left…because of you."

"Because of me," he restates in a skeptical way.

"Because of you." I look at Kyle. "And because of you. And because of everyone in your God-forsaken cult who he USED to call friends." Amazingly, the dexterity in my limbs comes back, and I grip the chair arms, pushing myself forward into them. "Who were really nothing but part of a goddamned lie," I growl, knocking Miller aside and heading for the door. I whip my head around as I push it open. "Danny's gone back to what's real," I proclaim and shut the door.

Once I'm in the hallway, I take a moment to take a few deep breaths. That felt too intense, too confrontational. I have no idea what to do now. In normal circumstances, I'd seek refugee with another friend, but I haven't got any other friends. And even so, I'm too upset to want to deal with the questions they'd no doubt have.

I figured Kyle, at the very least, would come after me right away, but our door stays closed and I can hear him and Miller talking. You'd think I had never been in there in the first place.

"Dude Stan…" I whip my eyes up and see I've attracted a lot of attention from the other guys in my hallway. It looks like most of them have exited their rooms and are now looking at me with burning curiosity. I turn my head to the one who called at my name, we talk every once in awhile in passing, but I don't even know his name… "So, what happened? Do we know where Jason is now?"

I swallow a lump in my throat before shaking my head to clear the vision I hadn't realized was blurring and moving my way past them.

"All you guys need to know is he isn't coming back," I say as I walk through the onlookers. "Who would want to?" I mutter that to myself as I push open the stairwell door.

"You did something to him, didn't you?" I glance up to see a blonde guy I've never seen in my life looking down at me. He's resting his head and arms on the railing as if it's something he does on a daily basis.

"To who?" I ask knowing full well what he means. I continue to trek down the stairs. I just have to get away, wherever away is. I can't imagine spending time in my room knowing Kyle is there. Knowing he doesn't give a shit if he betrays me or not, knowing I'm no more than second best in his book…that he'd rather side with Miller than me.

"Jason of course," he's starting to follow behind me, taking the steps lightly as if he doesn't have a care in the world.

"I didn't do shit to him, and you can pass that on to your cronies," I snarl out. I hear his light footsteps stop, and I turn my head briefly to glance at him.

"I'm not HHS," he says thoughtfully before smiling. "But thanks for thinking I am." Raising a creeped out eyebrow at the guy, I watch him bound back up the stairs to where he came from.

"God I have to get the fuck out of here," I say rubbing my forehead. Picking up my pace, I skip every other step down the stairs and jog out of the dorm. I stuff my hands in the pocket of my sweatshirt, walking to nowhere in particular.

This whole college is against me. I am such a loner here—now I know how Austin felt. And now I know WHY Austin felt that way. It was because of that damn Miller! WHY, Kyle?! Why did you have to fall for his tricks? For his empty promises and false immortality? I'm not an idiot—I know how this world works. I know that college clubs don't mean SHIT in real life. Do they?

I think back to what Jason/Danny had said, about the HHS performing acts that the US government only wishes it could do. Are they really a secret organization that will have you set for life? And if so, am I really playing it smart by making them my enemy?

I guess I can't be too big of an enemy, considering I'm dating one of their most devoted members. I shake my head at that thought. I never thought I'd see the day when Kyle fell from grace and into the hands of a controlling cult. Sure he had his challenges in high school, being the only Jewish kid and all. But I NEVER thought he'd succumb to such…lower standards.

Obviously I can't stay with him. It'd be insane for me to stay here and watch it all happen before my very eyes. I have no control over him, and as sad as it is to admit that, it's even harder admitting he'd choose some club over me. I'd choose him over anything, no questions asked. Why can't he see that?

The frigid air begins to freeze my exposed skin as I realize that I have nowhere to go. Nowhere. There is nowhere in this forsaken school where I can seek refuge. It's not just about having zero friends, or even about my boyfriend betraying me. It's about having absolutely no place to feel safe anymore. And even though I'm out here in the open, walking briskly to wherever I want, I feel more trapped than I did up in that room.

I have to leave.

I have to get the hell out of dodge. Follow in the footsteps of my two very intelligent friends—the only people wise enough to see what's really going on here. No matter how badly I want Kyle, or how badly I feel we belong together…I'm going to go insane if I stay here another minute.

My eyes scan the campus, as if searching for my way out. I can't do what Jason did. I can't just jump on a bus and go home like that. I definitely can't do what Austin did and plan for days in silence as I make my way out. His way took too long; Jason's was too quick. I need something that will work for me…before I change my mind.

I try to think about my options, and it scares me how few there are. JV is encased in nothingness. I can't call for a cab—I don't have that kind of ready money where I could fork enough for the hour long ride back home. As that is where I need to go. I need to go home. Back to South Park, to my family, to my friends…to Kenny. I don't even want to think of his reaction or the questions he'll demand when he sees me next, but…

Of course…I'll call Kenny. First I'll pack, call him and then hide out in some building until he arrives. Yeah, that sounds good. He may want to hound me, but he's Kenny. He'll feel my anxiety, he won't…press me for what went so wrong. He'll let me tell him on my own how the person I thought I cared the most about, cares so little for me…

But this isn't the time to get depressed or over emotional. I have to go back up to my room, pack, and leave.

Kyle and Miller are probably still in there talking about me, about Jason, maybe Austin. They could be laughing over who the hell knows what. Screw it! I'm not going to just sob and avoid them. If they're in there, so what! In fact, all the better! That way they can see me pack and not bug me about it later. I'll just kick Miller's ass out and Kyle…Kyle can do whatever he wants. He would anyway…

I already feel a little better at my fate as I start back into the dorm room again. I'm getting looks, probably from having walked out as if I couldn't be in the building another second. Now I'm storming back in as if I own the place after having stared into space for some time. But who cares what these assholes think?! Guys who cant even think for themselves, guys who actually take pleasure in pushing people away. People like that can just go to hell.

A few questions are fired in my direction as I march back up the stairs, but I ignore them. In less than two hours I wont be seeing any of their faces ever again anyway. Without bothering to knock, I waltz back into the room, noticing that both Kyle and Miller are still talking and that my sudden reentrance has startled them.

"Stan-" Kyle starts out, but I simply glare as hard as I can at him before turning to Miller.

"Get out," I bark at him. He looks taken aback, and instead of leaving he glances at Kyle. "Kyle isn't the one talking to you, I am, and I said to leave! You two can finish your oh so important discussion later when I'm long gone!"

It's hard to read Kyle's expression, but I do note that Miller has not torn his eyes off of my boyfriend. My words might as well have been silent, because its only when Kyle gives him a nod and the 'okay' that Miller huffs and takes his leave, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Pausing whatever it is I'm doing, I storm over to the door and lock it loudly, letting Kyle know I don't want any visitors. Of course, I don't really want him in here either, but I have no right to kick him out of his own room.

I try anyway. Unlocking the door, I open it back up, not all that surprised to see that Miller is leaning against the wall, probably listening in. I glare at him, and turn to Kyle. "You too," I instruct, with the meanest scowl I can possibly muster.

Kyle blinks at me twice, unmoving. My words have no effect on him either, and as I extend my hand, gripping his arm to force him out, he throws his arm out of my grasp and grunts. "The hell I will!" he bites back, stepping further away from the door.

I stare at him, pausing to recollect my temper, before turning back to Miller. "If you don't get the hell out of my sight _right_ now, I'll-"

"He's _leaving_, Stan," Kyle states for him, walking over to the door, and shoving Miller lightly on the back. "I'll see you later, Mil," he whispers to him. Miller disappears and Kyle shifts his stance on the doorframe, folding his arms and staring at me crossly.

I grit my teeth and bore a hole straight through his eyes before turning away in exasperation.

"That was rather rude," I hear him comment from behind me.

While I want to give him a piece of my mind, I close my eyes and compose myself before dragging my suitcase out of the closet.

"Now wait just a minute!" Kyle pleas, his voice increasing in volume the closer he runs up to me. As soon as I grasp the handle, he takes it away and throws it down. "What do you think you're doing?"

"What does it LOOK like I'm doing?" I spit, reaching down and trying to reclaim my luggage. This is a fight I'm in no mood to win. I just want to get packed, call Kenny, and get out.

He attempts to snatch my suitcase one last time before I feel myself losing all my cool. In an instant, I shove him backwards with all my strength. He stumbles a few feet before steadying himself, but makes no such move on me.

"Don't get in my way right now Kyle, just don't," I tell him quietly. We stare wordlessly at each other before I go back to my suitcase. I unzip it slowly before thinking about what I want to pack first. Oh fuck it. I approach my dresser, open all my drawers and begin tossing things into my suitcase. I can iron everything out later.

"Where are you going?" Kyle seems to have found his voice again, and he seems to want to play the dumb game some more. But I am in no mood.

"Back home. Everything I can't fit in this suitcase," I gesture at it, "feel free to toss. Donate it to the HHS children's fund for all I care."

He's silent as I keep throwing things in. I close one drawer once it's been emptied and bend down lower to do the same to the next.

"Why are you going home?"

"Why would I stay?" I question back. "You've given me the perfect reason for why I can't stay here anymore, for why I should follow in Austin's and Danny's footsteps."

"…Don't call him Danny."

I stop packing to look at Kyle like he's lost even more of his already lost mind. I'm packing to never return to this shit school and he's correcting me on another guy's name?

"Yeah," I snort. "Okay." I turn back to my task and try to empty the drawers faster. I'm not sure how I thought Kyle would take my leave, but asking me simple questions he can answer himself isn't what I expected. I anticipated more of a tantrum, which sounds more like the new him. But I almost want to laugh at myself. Didn't he only just prove I don't know him at all?

"You're not going to go," he says.

"Look at me," I grab a few more shirts and toss them in the suitcase. "I'm going." I quickly finish up the remaining drawers and take a breath before I turn to face Kyle. He's standing directly in front of my closest. "Move please," I say in a hostile tone. Not remotely surprising, Kyle doesn't move an inch. He doesn't even blink.

"Fine," I turn on my heel and shove my body weight on top of clothes to make them fit my bag. "Burn those clothes if you like, my suitcase is overstuffed anyway with the lack of folding."

"Stan, you're being ridiculous."

I ignore his insults and bounce lightly on top, realizing that this technique is not only extremely impractical…it's just plain sloppy. I _want_ those clothes that Kyle is blocking. After one last bounce, my butt slips and I hit the ground with a resounding thud. I prop my legs up, resting my arms on my knees. I drop my head between my hands and sigh audibly. I really need to calm down. At least to think rationally.

Kyle kneels down in front of me, extending his arms. "Let me help you," he suggests with a caring tone.

I lift my head up and scowl at him. "You want to help me leave," I ask skeptically.

His kneel turns into more of a sit as he rearranges his body, his legs outstretching and alternating mine. I refuse to look at the compassion in his eyes. I won't listen to one more word. They're all lies anyway.

"Of course not." He, too, sighs. As we face each other on the ground, he searches the floor for answers. His eyebrows are creased, and he's trying to make sense of the whole situation. I'd almost feel sorry for him if I knew he didn't cause it all to be so.

I shake my head, unable to grasp how thoughtless he is.

His eyes meet mine. "Stan, you can't go." His tone has softened, and he's not telling me what I'm going to do anymore. It's more or less a request.

I stop fidgeting with my fingers and look at him blankly. "I have no reason to stay."

"Don't you know what you mean to me?" he blurts out, his legs dropping as if I've knocked all the wind out of him.

I raise my eyebrows and bite my lip. "No, I don't," I answer flatly.

He frowns. "Stan,"

"I mean about as much to you as some psychotic club. You've made that abundantly clear." I look down at my fingers and began toying with my nails again. "You must understand why I'm less than thrilled."

This time his shoulders drop, and he scoots closer to me, placing a hand on my knee. "Stan, if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be a part of the HHS."

This grabs my attention. I let go of my hands and stare at him, irritated. "What?!"

He laughs. "When I came here, I was lonely. I didn't have you around, and Miller was the first person to show any interest in being my friend. He let me into his world, and it made it easier to cope with missing you. I was a wreck before that. Several times, I questioned why I ever left you to begin with."

"You told me that before," I remind him, resuming my disinterest.

"And so what if I'm telling you again, it seems it didn't get through to you the first time."

I narrow my eyes in annoyance. "You're telling me it's _my_ fault you joined the worst possible club in existence? Now I feel scores better."

"It's not-" he stops himself before he can berate me. "What was I supposed to do without you here?"

"Sulk and wait, just like I did."

"I'm not like you," he points out and I don't have to say I know that. "You haven't had the chance to see the good side of the HHS, but they did so much for me when you couldn't. They helped take my mind off you when I felt too lonely and then they helped fuel my adoration of them when I was promised that you would be our-"

He suddenly stops and I raise my eyes in expectation. I know what he was going to say. That I would be their next recruit, but Kyle's still in the dark about that. Not that it matters now, but that's just one less thing we need to discuss.

"Your what?" Now I'm just being an asshole, but its not like he doesn't deserve this.

"Never mind," he mutters, looking down.

I scoff and look away. He can't do it. Even for a fraction of a SECOND he can't forsake the HHS to tell me the truth. It doesn't matter that I'm aware of their plans to recruit me. It wouldn't matter if I knew everything about everything…the point is, he doesn't tell me a goddamned thing. What kind of a relationship based on lies can work? I won't be a part of it anymore.

"Okay, Kyle," I begin. "If that's the way you want it, so be it." I shake my head. "I'm done."

"You're done?" he asks.

"With everything. I'm done with this argument, I'm done with this place…I'm done with you." I scramble around to pull myself off the ground, but find that I'm too weak in the knees. Instead, I slowly sit back onto my suitcase.

The heartbreak on Kyle's face is insurmountable. I can _feel_ it radiating from those lost green eyes of his. His entire body has stopped movement, as though someone pressed the pause button. He isn't blinking, and he isn't looking at me. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was about to cry.

I can't help but stare at him, feeling a momentary glimpse of pain and panic. It tears me apart to think about walking away from him, but I really don't see any other way. He can't be straight with me, and I won't live with someone in deceit. There's only one logical choice, and for once, I've made it. Turning my back on him, I busily get back to my packing.

The air is silent around us, but I know he hasn't moved from his spot. I can feel his presence looming behind me. Unmoving. Taken aback.

At last, I successfully compact all of the clothes into my small suitcase, and conclude the packing by zipping up the bag. Discovering I now have enough strength in my legs, I stand up and move to stripping my bed of its comforter.

"What…what do I have to do to prove to you how much I need you here with me?" he questions with a small, fragile voice.

I tear off my sheet and begin folding it, thinking about what he just said. What would he have to do? He'd have to quit the HHS! But, I know that will never happen. It's not even an option. "There's nothing you CAN do," I respond, my back still facing him.

"There has to be something!" He suddenly shouts, and for the first time I'm happy to hear that he's losing his cool because of me, it's over me. He suddenly pushes the covers out of my hands and grips my shoulders, forcing him to face me. "You're not going to leave me! Not after everything…just tell me what I have to do!"

Is that desperation in his voice for _me_?

I give him a light amused smirk. "You're acting like I'm asking you to die for me. I just want…" His eyes are frantically trying to read mine, to decipher what I'll say before I say it. "I just want the truth. That's all, but you can't even give me that, so please let go of me."

Kyle slides his arms down to his side and I bypass him to reach for the covers I dropped earlier. Now I'll have to refold them, though I'm not sure how I'm going to get these home. I would just leave them like I plan to leave everything else, but I think my mom would have a fit since they're new.

"One question."

"Hm?" I mutter back.

"One question," he repeats. "You can ask me one question about anything you like…and I'll tell you."

I find myself dropping the covers into a crumpled heap again as I slowly turn to face Kyle. He can't be serious even if he looks otherwise.

"But in exchange you have to stay here with me, and there can't be anymore talk of you leaving ever again."

"I am not your prisoner," I tell him cautiously. "And I'm not making any promises I can't keep. You shouldn't either."

He kicks the carpet shyly, and I feel an ounce of sympathy go out to him because I've never seen him that cute before. It's like he's nervous. Nervous over me! Finally, he speaks. "I don't think of you as my prisoner."

"Well, that's good."

"And I DO want to share with you, Stan. You think its fun for me keeping secrets from the one person I want to share my life with?" He takes a breath and lowers himself onto my bed. Folding his hands between his knees, he stares directly ahead. "I promise you, I won't lie."

I bite my lip and opt to take a seat as well. I pull one leg up over the bed and rest my hands in my lap. What is the ONE question weighing on my mind? What do I want the truth on? Obviously, I have to ask something HHS-related. It'd be ludicrous for me not to.

"Okay," I accept. I look at him from the side as his shoulders slump. I reach out and lightly brush his back where his shoulder blades come together. "Tell me what this is."

Kyle's body stiffens the moment he feels my fingers, and I see his eyes close. He lets out a deep sigh and I drop my hand, awaiting his explanation.

When one doesn't come, I curse myself inwardly for giving him that chance to-

"It's our coat of arms," he whispers. "It is the second highest honor a member of the High Honor's Society can receive." He turns to me. "Members only get them after they've earned them. It's not for everyone, and only the truly dedicated reach this rank."

"What do you have to do to earn it?" I inquire curiously.

He smiles at me and breathes out. "That's not a part of your question."

I stare at him blankly before looking away. "Suppose it's not…" I look back at him. "But you didn't have to like-"

"It's NOT a part of your question," he repeats gently.

I understand that its not, and I know I have to hold my end of the bargain. He told me something I wanted to hear, even if I already knew a little bit about it. At the same time…now I'm only more curious because I DON'T know how one gets to his level, and it doesn't sound like it's through community service.

"Are you satisfied now?" he questions.

Of course I'm not. I'd only be completely satisfied if I could ask every question hanging on the end of my tongue. It's not to say, though, that I'm not touched that he did tell me something, especially since it's HHS related. That he did confide in me. Part of me assumed he'd try to worm his way out of it, or give me some ambiguous answer.

"Stan?" his voice sounds like he's starting to get worried again. Almost like he thinks I might decide what he told me wasn't enough and I'll still leave.

I can't lie. Part of me does want to. A huge part. Even if he has confided in me, it's one thing of how many secrets? Hundreds? Thousands of things he can't tell me? What really is one out of all that? But still…a deal is a deal right? And to think I already packed away over half my clothes.

Turning my back on him, I wonder how long I can prolong having to unpack. If I hold out for too long, I really will have to iron everything…or wear my clothes wrinkled, which is far easier to do.

Widening my eyes, I stiffen as I feel Kyle grip me from behind, wrapping his arms around my torso as he burrows his head in my shoulder blade. He squeezes me for a moment before relaxing his grip but staying firmly attached to me.

"Say it," he says, sounding more like the way he used to order things from me. But he keeps it light by attempting to keep his tone gentle.

"Say that I won't leave?" I toss the question in the air as I remain where I am. Not leaning back into him, but not leaning away from him either.

"Yes, I want to hear it from your mouth."

I sigh internally and close my eyes. "I'm not going to leave." His grip around me tightens again and he inhales a sharp breath as he presses his head harder into my shoulder.

"Say it again."

"I'm…not going to leave."

"And again."

"Kyle-"

"AGAIN!"

I reach a hand back and stroke his curls slowly, "I won't leave okay?"

"Good," he mutters and falls silent.

I want to say I'm thinking about this too much, but being with him and being where we are, I'm probably not. But, I feel like I…signed away some rights by repeating myself three times. I know I'm just being ridiculous, but if there is one useful thing the HHS has taught me, it's that nothing you imagine could be that far from reality.

**-iBB **and _**f **_**G **


	17. The Deviation Part II

**AN: **Thanks again for the reviews guys! We're working hard to finish this story and hopefully you'll get to read the ending as a New Years gift? We'll see…

**The Reformation of Kyle Broflovski**

**XV. **The Deviation  
**Part II**

I blink and strain my eyes to focus on page 758 of _Calculus with Analytic Geometry_, reading the same summary paragraph for the fifth or sixth time. I can't say I wasn't _too_ surprised to learn that I was on the verge of failure in this course…but the fact that I'm on the verge of failure in MOST of my courses has really gotten to me.

Kyle has offered time and time again to help me out, but I'm not too eager for that to happen. Things between him and I aren't exactly running smoothly, though we both ignore the issue and refuse to bring it up. He knows I'm miserable. He knows I have no friends here. But he also knows I made a promise to him, and he will hold me to that no matter what happens. Even if I receive a big fat 'F' in everything I've taken…he'll keep me here somehow.

The day he showed me how I could've been keeping track of my grades through this thing called _Gradebook_ online, I flipped out. Not only was I pissed that I never knew this…it wasn't a pretty sight seeing how low my averages were. Except for Speech, which I am not only passing, I'm acing. Take that, Miller!

"What are you studying for now?" Kyle asks curiously as he moseys his way over to my desk. He knows that I've buckled down in the past week, trying my hardest to make the last half of this semester count.

"Calculus," I reply, bored. I prop my head up with my fist and feel my eyes glaze over. If only someone could make a textbook that was interesting!

He leans over my shoulder and braces his arm on the back of my chair. "Need help?" he questions, knowing my answer will be no. I don't want his help. I don't want him to feel obligated to pull me out of this rut.

I growl noticeably, but he doesn't back off. Instead, he flips a page.

"Stan, you were studying that page yesterday. Are you sure you don't-"

"I'm fine!" I bark defensively. I look over the new material and realize that, in fact, I WAS supposed to go over this page. Shit, I'm in trouble.

"You know," Kyle says as he leans back from me and I let out a long noticeable sigh. Anytime Kyle starts a sentence with those two words it means he's going to give me some "suggestions." "There's a bunch of scheduled studying groups coming up this week, and some private ones too."

Okay, that actually sounds like a suggestion worth taking. I swivel around in my chair to see Kyle gathering a few books and notebooks. "Oh yeah, for any of my classes?"

"Most, if not all."

I beam. "When and where? Library?"

"Not exactly…they're usually held in the main conference room at Ambrose Hall."

"Ambrose Hall?" I frown and think for a second. I don't recognize it. "Where's tha-"

"It's the hall that looks like the Parthenon."

My eyes widen and I whip my head back to my desk, away from Kyle's face. Holy crap, that's the building where I snuck into the HHS meeting. Wait a minute…if study groups are being held _there,_ then…

I turn back around to face Kyle with narrowed eyes. "Isn't that like HHS central?"

Seems it's his turn to narrow his eyes at me. "How do you know that?"

Oops. "Um…I've just seen lots of guys head in that general direction. They were all HHS, but that's not the point, am I right? IS it HHS central?"

He sighs and packs his things into his bag. "What does it matter? It's tutoring groups and that's all that should be of concern to you."

I snort and turn a page in my book forcefully. "I'll take that dodge of my question as a yes, and no thanks. It'll be a cold day in hell before I accept help from the likes of people like them."

He scoffs and walks back over to me, placing his hands on my shoulders. He tenses them briefly, as if he's going to give me a massage. But he laughs again and pats them. "You're way too proud."

I smirk. "I think it's an endearing quality to have."

"I think it's an idiotic quality to have," he retorts, leaning into my ear. "And need I remind you that you happen to be with a person_ 'like them'_? Like it or not, you're surrounded by HHS all the time. What harm can a study session do?"

Pretending to ignore this comment, I snort and look down to the floor.

"Unless you plan to lock yourself in solitary confinement and study your ass off from now until finals so you can make it through with a C…I'd say you really don't have many options," he points out.

Damn him. I know he's right. I can't seem to get myself focused enough to complete _any_ of my assignments. The slightest sound, such as a bird chirping or a phone ringing from across the hall, distracts me for the next five to ten minutes. My mind is racing with a thousand thoughts per minute. I don't HAVE enough brain space to cram additional knowledge. I'm out of luck unless I have someone who can push me. Someone who maybe knows a little bit more about the subjects than I do, and has been paying attention since day one.

He grips my shoulders and bends down, kissing me on the cheek. "Think about it," he suggests. His hands drop and, out of the corner of my eye, I see him move toward the door.

"Where are you off to?" I inquire curiously.

"Lunch," he states. "Its 2:00 and my stomach has been patiently waiting for you, but if I don't give it some food soon, it's going to eat itself."

I stare at him, puzzled. He's been waiting on me? Since when? Man, 2:00. That means I've been reading the same page—the same incorrect page, mind you—for two hours. I think it's time I admit my weakness and ask for some guidance. "If you give me five minutes, I'll go with you," I tell him, closing the book and magically feeling the absence of food in my own stomach.

"I knew you would say that, but I figured I'd bring you something back so as not to distract you," he offers.

"No I'll just go with you," I respond and slip on my lighter jacket. "I need the study break anyway."

"Hm, don't you have to be studying to have deserved a study break?" Kyle's fighting a smile and I just wave off his less than kind remark.

"I probably just need a bit of brain food."

A few minutes later, and seated comfortably in the seat we always occupy when we're together, Kyle is looking skeptically at my meal of choice. "Since when is two burgers, a bucket of French fries, large milkshake, and a piece of chocolate cake considered brain food?"

"Carbs, protein, vegetables, and a little bit of sugar," I list off the obvious. "Am I missing something?" I ask curiously as I turn my head to roam over the buffet lines.

"Nothing at all," he says with a smile.

"Kyle!"

I glance over at the voice that called out to him. My face automatically goes back to my plate. Its High Honor guys, nothing that concerns me, though they usually make a point to not bother Kyle when it's just the two of us. I don't know if that's for my sake or his.

Three guys end up at the end of our table smiling like the cheesy eighties television shows they must have popped out of.

"You're still up for the annual indoor barbeque?" one of them asks. I like how all their attention is on Kyle, like I don't exist.

I turn to look at Kyle, who takes a drag of his water before answering. "Yeah, I'm looking forward to it. Mill says it's always a blast."

"It is, and you'll be at the planning meeting in an hour?"

Kyle nods and the guys continue to grin before nodding and walking off to their own table.

"Didn't know you had a meeting today," I mutter, finding my brain food less enjoyable even before I've had a chance to dig in.

"It's just for a couple of hours," he says distractedly. "Stan, the barbeque isn't HHS exclusive…we're all allowed to invite one guest."

"How quaint," I mutter as I chew a few fries.

"Knock off the sarcasm," he scolds me, taking a few bites of his own food, which consists of a mere grilled chicken breast and a side of mixed vegetables.

I scowl at his plate, mostly at the food. How can anyone get their fill with _that_? My eyes rove over my plate, noting the size of the burgers and milkshake. Suddenly, I'm very aware at why my friends make fun of me all the time. I have an eating disorder. I binge, and then I binge some more. Not that I'd ever change that fact. I'd rather-

"Stan, did you hear what I said?" Kyle asks, his eyes glued to my face. I look up from my food to find them there, searching me for an answer.

I raise my eyebrows in response.

He takes a swig of water and stabs a green bean with his fork, his eyes still on me. "I said it _isn't_ exclusive."

"I heard you," I answer back through a muffled bite of hamburger. How can he even find me attractive? I'm pretty sure I'm stuffing my face AND talking with my mouth open.

His body language tells me he's getting irritated, though. As he fidgets with his fork, he situates himself in the booth. "That means that I don't have to go there alone."

"I heard that too," I say, sipping down my milkshake. With a burger poised in both my hands, I add, "so who are you taking?"

He makes this clicky sound with his throat and purses his lips. "Don't pretend that you are _that_ stupid."

"Well I AM failing most of my classes…"

"Oh, fuck you, Stan," he snaps, beginning to gather his tray and various items. "I've been ignoring your cynicism all week, but here I am, trying to ask you to be my date to the barbeque, and you can't get past the fact that it's hosted by some members of the HHS. Grow up," he finishes as he slides out of the booth.

I idly sip my milkshake as I watch Kyle walk off. Grow up? The HHS isn't the Art club. They're not some harmless group I just don't like. I have reason not to like those guys. It isn't about growing up because they were mean to me or made fun of me. It's because they change people, lie to people, BRAND people. I refuse to feel guilty about their little get together.

I decide to take my time in finishing my lunch. Giving Kyle ample time to gather his stuff and leave the dorm room when he returns if he so chooses. That way I can avoid him until after my next class. He's useless when he's pissed off, and there will be no reconciling with him right now.

That's all right. I'll just sit here and eat my lunch in comfortable silen- "Who said you could sit here?" I snarl out.

I don't even have to look up from my plate to see who it is. I could practically smell him coming.

"Not the most hospitable person, are you?"

"Not to people I don't like, no."

Miller smirks to himself and I roll my eyes to the ceiling, cursing my bad luck and Kyle's bad timing to get moody and leave. "What were you doing, watching and waiting until Kyle left before you approached me?"

"More or less. Kyle told me he'd take care of this himself, but I'm growing rather impatient, so I decided I'd take it upon myself to ask you."

I take a huge and hopefully sickening looking bite of my burger. "Ask me what?"

He cringes and I watch his lip curl in disgust before he controls his facial expressions and returns to his most favorite. Impassive.

"…Have you heard from Jason lately? He hasn't picked up any of my phone calls."

I snort. "There's a shock, and not about Jason not talking with you. It's obvious why he wouldn't. I was referring more to the fact of you asking me something. Me knowing something you know nothing about."

"Have you heard from him or not?!" Miller snaps, losing his cool for a moment.

"Did what I say go in through one ear and out the other? He doesn't want anything to do with you. Leave him alone. He's better off without being your marionette doll."

Miller grinds his teeth at my remark. "Stan, I'm not asking for your opinion on the matter. I just want know if you'd heard from him."

I scoff. "And I'm not TELLING you my opinion. I'm telling you word-for-word what Jason has said to me."

He shifts uncomfortably, looking around. I think he's embarrassed to be seen with me. Or maybe he's just embarrassed that I've got one up on him for once. Leaning in, he practically whispers, "you will tell me what I want to know. Jason is my friend, he's a-"

"He's just a puppet for you to control," I finish for him, astonished—and mildly nauseated—that he'd STILL call Jason a friend. "That's what they all are. And he found out the truth, so he's done with you." I lean in above my food, but I don't lower my voice. "And so am I. Kindly leave me to the rest of my lunch in peace."

"Why are you being so rude?" he asks. "I'm just concerned about him."

My eyes bug out of my skull. Seriously? He's trying to feed me THAT line? He's _got_ to be joking. Steamed that he's ignoring my obvious displeasure of his presence, I gnaw on a fry and chug my milkshake, not answering him.

"Stan, you may think of yourself as special to him, but if it wasn't for Kyle or me, you wouldn't have been introduced to Jason," he continues.

I stare at him blankly. "Don't give yourself too much credit, Miller. If it wasn't for Kyle, and Kyle alone, I wouldn't be here. So if you'll please-"

"If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't be here either," he corrects.

I narrow my eyes, thoroughly interested in his explanation for _that_. "Do explain," I urge him.

He rolls his eyes and huffs. "Never mind. Just tell me, is Jason okay?"

"He's fine," I mutter, taking another bite. "And he will continue being fine even after you forget about him. So you've done your charity work for today, checking up on him. You can pat yourself on the back and get the hell away from me."

"As irritating and immature as you are, I see no reason for me to leave when I haven't gathered all the answers I've come here for."

I grit my teeth. I'M irritating and immature? It's more like he described himself.

"Then if you won't leave-" I say as I start to stand up with my tray of food.

"Oh sit down," he says as if he's an exasperated father talking to his child. I'm half tempted to toss my tray in his face but I control myself, though I don't sit down. "I said sit down," he says in a lower voice.

"Unlike your other followers I'm not some submissive bitch," I growl out and take myself and tray toward the door. I'll pack it all up and eat somewhere else. There's no way I'm dealing with his crap. I already have to listen and "respect" him in my speech class, but outside class? I snort. He has no control over that aspect of my life.

As I'm calmly trying to pack my food into the little Styrofoam containers, I notice Miller is standing at the only exit out of his place, save the emergency exits. He's staring right at me with that same annoyed look.

What is his problem? As much of a prick as he is, he's a relatively smart prick and knows when I've had more than enough of his face, and his personality. That's fine. I'll just brush past him without a word.

"You remember the old saying Stan: you can run, but you can't hide? Well, I will get the information I want from you, even if I have to harass you day and night. So we either get this talk over with or I become your very own personal stalker."

Is he for real? The look on his face makes me think so; and its unfortunate, but he has a point. The guy pretty much runs the campus. Anytime he couldn't be at my side like a leech, he could easily get someone else to do it.

I snarl at him and tighten my grip on my containers. "Fine. Let's go for a walk then and you can ask your little questions." Doesn't mean I'll answer them though.

Miller follows me out through the double doors and I exhale loudly, waiting impatiently for him to catch up to me.

"Slow down," he orders.

"No thanks, I'll call the shots here. After all, you're the one that wants information," I bite back, stuffing my nose into the upper part of my jacket. Soon enough, I realize this does nothing to quell my chills. I'm thinking they're not all from the cold air.

He jogs up to me wearing a troubled expression. Does he actually think I will EVER do what he asks me to do? "Jason, first and foremost, is still a member of our sacred society. It is your duty to disclose any information you have on his whereabouts," he proceeds, staring directly at me. He's keeping up with me, even synching his steps with mine.

I roll my eyes and stack my containers close to my body, trying to steal some of their heat. "I suggest you give up on that topic and go to the next, Miller. I haven't got all day."

"Stan, slow down," he tells me again, this time extending a hand and gripping my bicep. I stop and glare at him. He digs his fingers into the material of my jacket and begins walking at his own pace. I have no choice but to tag along. "You're getting on my nerves," he informs me.

I shake my head. "Then let go of me and leave me alone." It seems like the logical step.

He leans in closer and whips me around so I'm breathing down his neck. "In case you didn't hear me clear enough before, I said that Jason is STILL part of the HHS. It is in your best interest to answer my questions so we can figure out this mystery."

I tilt my head and look directly at him, penetrating through those piercing blue orbs of his. "Are you deaf? Maybe you're just slow." He begins to look away from me, but I guide his eyes back with a jerk of my fingers to his chin. His eyes flicker hatred before I go on. "There IS no mystery, Miller. Jason left because you sold him out. Because you lied to him to begin with. He heard it from your very own lips. You can't deny this because you were THERE. So, go back to leading your drones all around school and leave me the FUCK ALONE!"

Before I can drop my hand and stomp off, his face breaks into more anger than I've seen it as of late. "And what exactly did he hear?" He takes a slight step forward, but I refuse to back down. He's trying to intimidate me by getting in my face, but do I need to remind who has who's face in their hand? I'm not backing down.

"Stop with the innocent act," I hiss. I'm tired of him acting like he doesn't know what he did and said. No one is that oblivious to their own actions.

He continues to stare at me blankly and I have half a mind to spit in his face. We're close enough that it would land directly on him. "Fine," I snort and drop my hand back to my side, but keep my head in place. "I don't have time for your bullshit anymore. He overheard your conversation with Kyle."

"WHAT conversation?"

I snort and cast my eyes to the side for a second before meeting his again. "The one about you separating him and Austin for your own personal gain. Lying to Jason about what you told Austin when Jason trusted you to make things better between them. THAT conversation."

While I had been telling him what he already knew I'd been feeling his grip on my bicep tighten. I'd been willing to ignore it, but now it's starting to throb.

"You're hurting me," I snarl.

He lowers his head, just an inch or so more so that our noses are almost touching. I can see as a flash of confusion passes over his eyes. He looks like he honestly didn't realize what Jason overheard. But of course that doesn't make any sense. Kyle would have definitely told him, as Kyle tells him everything.

"I couldn't give a damn that I'm hurting you," he says somewhat distractedly. "Jason heard me tell Kyle all of that?" he suddenly asks, looking at me closely.

"Stop acting like you don't know that! It's pissing me off!"

"I didn't know!" He barks, gripping me tighter and yanking my arm. "What else did he hear?"

"The hell you didn't! And you know goddamn well what he heard! Now back. Off," I say threateningly. "From him _and_ me before I really get mad."

There's something inside Miller that looks like it's about to snap, but I stay firm and wait for him to release me from his death grip. His eyes are starting to gloss over and it seems as if he's personally remembering the conversation for himself. Good. I'm tired of reminding him.

"I didn't know he heard," he mutters more to himself and I can't stop the snort that escapes my mouth.

"Yeah!" I say sarcastically. "Because it's not like Kyle didn't tell you. It's not like he tells you everything!" As he glares at me, I feel a sinking feeling in my gut. "Kyle…didn't tell you?"

"What are you two doing?" A light voice that's not Miller's asks.

We both turn our heads, which are still dangerously close together, to look at Kyle. He's standing there with an emotionless look on his face, eyeing the both of us.

I open my mouth and pause to take a breath, my eyes wider than saucers. He startled me, and I was in the middle of a revelation. Could it be? Did Kyle keep something from Miller for once? What does this mean? What does it mean for us-

"Don't touch him," Kyle says in a dull voice. His eyes are glued to the hand wrapped around my arm.

Just then, I feel Miller's grip tighten even more. He's practically strangling my arm. I hear his breath hitch as if he's caught by surprise as well. For the first time, he's literally speechless. My eyes flicker over his deer-caught-in-headlights expression. I wonder if he registered what Kyle said. He too seems more focused on the same epiphany I had. That Kyle might not have confided in him.

Kyle shifts his glare to Miller's face, his eyes burning a hole through Miller's ice cold blue ones. "Get off of him," he says, still keeping relatively calm, but his eyes are flashing anger.

"Kyle," Miller begins, his hand wringing my arm like he's punishing it for Kyle's presence. It's almost like he's just getting his voice back, as if he's snapping back to the present.

"I said get the FUCK off of him!" Kyle suddenly snaps as he heads straight toward us. Upon reaching us, he practically forces Miller and me apart with his strong forearms, pushing Miller an arm's distance away from us. He's seething with anger as he stares at Miller incredulously before taking a step toward me.

Miller stops his propulsion backwards and stands there, dumfounded.

"You don't ever get to touch him," Kyle tells him in an almost reasoning voice. Almost as if he's explaining to Miller a simple fact of life.

Miller eyes him back in a surprise I have never seen his facial features express, while I have my own gaze on Kyle. I'm bewildered. He went from calm, to angry, to calm again in less than ten seconds.

"I-" Miller manages out, but he clamps his mouth shut. I don't know if it's from Kyle's sudden growl of warning or if Miller actually is at a loss for words. I sure as hell am. Kyle has a tendency to take Miller's side, not mine. That aside, I'm still trying to wrap my head around the idea that Kyle seemed to have LISTENED to me when I told him I wanted some secrets to stay between us, and only us.

Kyle turns toward me, eyeing me as though he's inspecting me for damage. Miller takes a step forward, and out of the corner of his eye, Kyle sees this. His head speedily whirls back around to face Miller. He's gauging the situation. He's looking at Miller suspiciously. Wait. Does he think…

"It's not what you think," Miller answers my question for me, only he's speaking to Kyle.

Kyle watches his leader for a few more seconds before his expression brightens considerably. "I know you two despise each other. You can't be in the same room together without arguing over something." He stares at the ground. "It better stay that way."

I follow Kyle's gaze until it is resting on me. I look at him, almost apologetically, and attempt to say something. Once again, my voice gets caught in my throat. So much has happened lately, it's impossible to formulate into words. Kyle first told Miller OUR secret, then he said he'd pick the HHS over me, then he proved how much he wanted me here, and now I'm finding out he actually followed my wishes this time. Could the tables be turning? Sure I've realized he'll never hate that damn club like I do. I'll never get him away from Miller either. This much I've accepted. But this whole jealousy bit…is he choosing me over Miller? That in itself is a HUGE victory. I feel like celebrating.

"Come with me, Stan," Kyle asks, but more in a demanding tone. I'm not sure how to deal with Miller right now so I comply. Whatever Kyle has to say to me can't be any worse than having that prick command me like he's my master.

He doesn't give Miller a second glance, and I ought to do the same, but I can't help but to peek back and have a look at him. He's still standing there looking worse for the wear, and I have to hold in my snicker of glee. I shouldn't be so happy to see someone so miserable, but since I am, there's no point in stopping the feeling.

Kyle leads me toward the dorms, and just as we pass one of the main department buildings I realize I have class soon. And since I'm failing, I probably should attend it.

"Kyle I still have class," I say lightly, and expect him to stop walking and to let me go. We can always talk later.

"Skip it," he says bluntly and keeps walking, not having missed a step, though I falter from surprise before quickly catching back up with him.

I try to think of what to say next. I'd like to broach the whole me over Miller thing—at the very least the idea that he's taking what I say seriously—but talking doesn't seem like something he wants to do. By the time we reach the doors of Windermere I'm somewhat out of breath, and Kyle doesn't let up his pace until we've flown up the stairs and are behind the closed door of our dorm.

Being the last in the room, I shut the door and eye him cautiously. He's facing the window so his back is toward me, but I can see that our mini speed walk has gotten his lungs working a bit too. Watching his deep breathing, I think back to what just happened. How he got defensive and protective over me. In front of his asshole friend, the guy he'd usually ditch me for. He took my side and got hotheaded and snappy because of Miller touching my arm. He got jealous, and I've never seen him like that before.

His reaction should perhaps worry me a little, but instead, oddly enough it's…kind of a turn on. Imaging him like that, pulling me away from another guy, and telling said guy not to touch me…

"Kyle," I mutter out slowly.

"I know, I'm sorry," he says quietly, still looking out the window. "You're not an object and I treated you like one."

"That's not-"

"But," he whips around and I wince at the look in his eyes. He's clearly still thinking about what happened only a few minutes ago because his eyes are blazing. "It wasn't that he was just touching you, Stan. It was his grip on your arm, like he was saying you were his when we all know goddamn well that you are mine."

"Am I?" I ask, not really sure why I'm asking him to clarify that. I already know its true.

He drops his shoulders and glares at me briefly.

"I thought we just decided that I_wasn't_ an object," I start out, trying to make conversation even though I'm fairly sure that isn't what Kyle wants to do right now. He has that look in his eyes again and I'm not about to change his mind. It's strange to think that he has this kind of power over me, but what can I say? He's mine too. And I DID say I wanted to celebrate…

What's shocking is who initiates the first move. I find myself heading without delay over to him before he can even reply. I capture his lips and he surrenders, his hands guiding me from the back of my neck.

He pulls away. "So you'll be skipping class then?"

I guide him toward the bed and we fall down in one mass, his hands already tugging the shirt off my back. I press closer into him and grip the bed frame, pulling us up onto the bed. As his lips travel over to my ear, he whispers, "I'll take that as a yes."

Really, did he even have to ask?

-

Whoever said that it was good to fight because making up was always hot obviously knew what they were talking about. As Kyle cradles me in his arms, I can't remember the last time I was that turned on or that unexplainably driven to ignore every outside influence and just feel. Just relish in the near-perfection of Kyle Broflovski. Abandon any other thought drifting through my brain to concentrate on him. Just him.

"You're all sweaty," Kyle tells me, brushing a strand of hair off my forehead.

I smile, unable to think of a clever comeback.

"You haven't said anything in over five minutes. Are you okay?" he asks, propping his face on his hand.

I turn to him with the same goofy grin. "I'm fine," I assure before going back to gazing at the ceiling tiles. I never noticed what shape they were before. It's as if someone cut them out by hand and pieced them together blindfolded. The edges don't even line up right.

"Stan I have something to ask you," he continues, his hands working a pattern on my chest. His fingertips graze from side to side slowly and draw a line through my sparse chest hair.

"Mh hm," I murmur distractedly. I feel his hand slide down further. He grips my abs, massaging my skin through his fingers.

"Actually, I want to ask something of you."

"Mm," I acknowledge, feeling my inner temperature begin to rise once again.

"Well," he pauses and I smile wider as I feel his lips graze my neck. It's ridiculous how he knows all my sensitive spots, not that I mind. I close my eyes contentedly as he brushes his nose over my lower jaw. "About the indoor barbeque?"

"Hmm?" I respond and tilt my head slightly to allow him better access.

"I'd really like for you to come," he whispers and kisses my temple. He continues with a line of kisses from my cheek, down my neck, around to my ear and back again. They're so delicate and warm. His fingers tip toe down just below my navel where he toys with the trail of coarse hairs leading southwards. "Won't you?"

"Won't I what," I reply dazed. Suddenly my attention is no longer anywhere but where his hand is leading. His kisses are picking up in strength, and I groan lightly as he begins sucking at the base of my throat.

He lifts his head and smiles at me. "Won't you come with me?"

I elevate my head, mustering up what little muscle control I have right now to meet him. His hand dips down to brush my inner thigh.

My head drops back into the pillow. "Mhm, to the what?"

"We'll have fun together," he goes on lightly. "Don't we always have fun together?" At that he raises his hand a bit, gripping me expertly. I close my eyes again as he begins to pump up and down.

"That's true," I mutter, expanding my smile. He thrusts his hand a bit quicker.

I feel his breath on my chin and his hand settles into a rhythm. "So that's a yes then?" He brushes his body up against mine and I can feel how badly he wants me.

My cheeks hurt from grinning too long. "Okay." I'll agree to anything, just so long he doesn't stop what he's doing.

"Great," he says and I can feel his smile as he finally kisses me on the lips. "And you promise right?"

"'Course," I say, and I even nod slightly so he knows I'm serious about keeping my promise to…I freeze and snap open my eyes. "Wait, WHAT did you just have me agree to?"

I hear Kyle chuckle lightly and he kisses my lips again before adjusting himself so that he has a better grip. He drapes one leg over top of mine as he snuggles up to my side. "The HHS annual indoor barbeque of course, it'll be fun."

I stare at him in shock and scramble to sit up. He immediately backs off and slinks over to his side of the bed. What a dirty trick!

"You can't make me give promises during an afterglow! That isn't fair!"

"It wasn't during an afterglow, it was during foreplay," Kyle clarifies.

Suddenly I'm no longer in the mood for the…play. Feeling my frustration rise, I frown. "My point remains the same. I was DISTRACTED!"

"Maybe so, but you already promised and if you back out of your promise…" he trails off and shakes his head. "I really want you to go with me, please don't try and back out of it okay? You'll have fun."

"I can't believe you would do that to me…" I say more to myself.

"It's not as if you didn't enjoy what we just did."

"That's beside the point Kyle!" I snap at him before sighing. "Fine, I'll go," I say grudgingly. "But! That means you owe me a favor."

"Oh, and what's that going to be?"

"I'm not sure yet, but if I have to do this, you have to do something for me," I cross my arms, determined to have him agree.

He gives me a lazy smile and shakes his head. "Fair enough, but know your limits with your favor."

"Yeah, yeah I can't ask you to take me on a trip to an HHS meeting," I wave a hand and think back to why he wouldn't have to do that; seeing as how I already gave myself that self-guided version. It makes me shudder at the memory.

"What's wrong?" he asks, seeing my sudden change in body temperature.

I force myself to relax again. As I do so, I start feeling the pain of quitting foreplay cold turkey. I'm going to have blue balls for a month, I swear. Shaking my head, I settle into the pillow. "It's nothing…tell me about this barbeque…"

"Well, I don't quite know all the details yet, but we have a meeting in…FUCK!" His sudden shout alarms me, and I peer over to his widened eyes and instantly pissed-off expression. He reaches over me and grabs the clock. I lay under him helplessly. I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to pick up where we left off. "Fuck," he curses again.

"What?" I respond lazily. I hope this isn't yet another way to avoid one of my questions. I lay flat on my back as he climbs on top of me…but it doesn't last but a millisecond before he's off the bed and rushing around. I shift to my side and watch in amazement as he nearly gives himself a heart attack looking for his clothes. Leaning over the edge of the bed, I spot his boxers and hook them with one finger, lifting them within his arm span. "Looking for these?" I venture with a devilish grin.

He pauses all movement to snatch them out of my hand and slide them on. Simultaneously I hear a knock on the door. Our attention turns to it as Kyle walks over and turns the knob.

Now it's my turn to curse. "Shit!" I yell as he opens it with zero regard to MY absence of apparel. Luckily all I see are blurred faces of several guys on the other side—none of which were staring in my particular direction—for a few seconds until Kyle closes the door behind him. When I see that the coast is clear, I fish for my own boxers and put them on before creeping closer to the door.

"I know," I hear Kyle's voice from the other side. "I got tied up."

I frown in confusion and press my ear into the door to hear the muffled conversation better.

"When you didn't show up we were starting to get worried," I hear a voice say. I don't recognize the owner, which makes me wonder who he's talking to. "Miller said we ought to check up on you, but most of us already decided to go anyway. It's just not like you."

"I was going to go, I just got…distracted," I hear Kyle say and I have to hold in a snort. He used the same term I used only a few minutes ago.

There's a pause in conversation. "We can see that. Mill will be none too pleased."

"I don't exactly care what Miller thinks right now," Kyle says back in a flippant tone and I grin to myself. I wish Miller himself could hear that. "And anyway, he should know that everything I do is for the good of the HHS."

I hear a scoff. "And how were you doing that exactly?"

"Getting our recruit in a compliant mood. You can tell Miller to expect him at the barbeque just as we all agreed upon."

"Really?" There's surprise in his voice. Not that I care.

Did I hear Kyle right? He'd better be full of shit. He'd better only be saying that to deter his inquisitors.

"You got Brother S to agree to come to the event?"

"He only just promised he'd go, in fact he sounded more than willing to go. There shouldn't be any more problems after this."

I tighten my fist and take a few calm breaths. Of COURSE Kyle is only making up this crap. He's not serious; he didn't get me in bed for the sole purpose of HHS related business. Maybe that's what the after stuff was for, but not the initial. No, that was all about us and nothing more. Because if it wasn't…then that would mean that everything, everything from the get go had been planned. Miller talking with me, Miller insisting on walking with me, Kyle…conveniently catching us in such a position. Pulling us apart, dragging me back to the dorms…

No. I'm just being paranoid. That AND I'm losing track of the conversation outside the doorway.

"…he won't, don't worry," I hear Kyle reassure them on whatever I won't do, and I mentally scold myself for falling behind and daydreaming. I do that all too often and it results in missing a lot of pertinent information. Like Calculus and physics…and my technical drawing class. I can't BELIEVE I'm failing that! Even with Marc's help, I'm still three weeks behind any sort of schedule that will allow me to catch up…

Dammit, I'm doing it again!

"And Miller?" another voice I don't recognize asks. Immediately I zone back in. Gotta stop doing that!

"He will live. He knows I'm with Stan and he knows the situation. He even approved his recruitment. I have nothing more to say to him today," Kyle replies dryly, and I'm left wondering what the hell they were talking about. Is Kyle really that pissed off at Miller to not talk to him? Granted, it's just one day, but still. That PROVES that I'm just being paranoid. Unless this is all a big ploy because he knows I'm listening in…

"We'll go over the details tomorrow at lunch, okay Jim?" Kyle dictates, rather than asks.

"I'll agree to that."

"Now if you don't mind," Kyle says, and I can only imagine what kind of gesture he's giving. Or what kind of faces those guys are making. "I'll make amends with Miller then as well. Good evening," he bids.

Before the doorknob turns, I find myself fleeing that spot for a safer, less obvious space of the room. When Kyle enters, I begin frantically searching for something in my mess of drawers.

Out of the corner of my eye, I peek at him, gauging my inner fury. I'm torn—if he's using my feelings for him to get me to be the next clone, promise or no promise, I'm getting the hell out of here. But what if he was just saying that to protect his own ass? I mean, he DID just miss a meeting with all-mighty Miller because he was busy messing around with me. I narrow my gaze as he looks around the room as if he's trying to find me.

"Trouble?" I ask, dripping with innocence.

He snorts and scratches his shoulder. "I kind of screwed up." His confession shocks me, though I'm not sure why.

"Oh?"

"I was supposed to go to a meeting regarding the annual HHS indoor barbeque. You must remember, you were being an ass about it." I frown but nod. "A few guys came by to remind me and I had to lie my way through for not attending."

"Lie?" My mood perks a little.

Kyle nods, "I can't recall the last time I mislead fellow members, but the details of our relationship should stay between the two of us, don't you think?"

"Agreed," I say, feeling the relief swarm through me. He DID just put on a front. I think, I hope. As much as I hate to admit it, I find it hard to trust him sometimes. It'd be nice to put my entire trust in him, but…I just never know.

"Though the guys did serve as a good reminder that playtime is over and that we ought to go back to doing what we should have been doing earlier."

I slink back into his bed and huddle under the covers. "Which was what?"

He yanks them off me. "You have to study, especially since you skipped class."

"On your orders."

"And now I'm making up for it. Study," he says as he slips his jeans back on, followed by a t-shirt, and unfortunately a jacket.

"And where are you going?" I press, not moving from my spot one bit despite the lack of covers.

"Somewhere else. You can't do any work with me in here."

"I cant do work with you not here," I add.

"I just want you to get at least three nice solid hours of work done, that's all. I know you can do it."

"Now you sound like my mom," I grumble and squeeze his pillow. He gives me a look and I groan before detaching myself from his bed and standing up, grabbing my own clothes and slipping them back on. "Fine, three hours."

"Three GOOD hours. Not three minutes and then you watching television the rest of the time."

"I got it, jeez! I correct myself. You're _worse_ than my mom."

With an unamused raised eyebrow, he grabs his school bag and tosses a few books in. "I'll see you in a bit," he says and gives me a peck on the lips before leaving.

Once he's closed the door behind him, I crumble back onto the bed at once, popping back up as he suddenly reopens the door. I give him a fake bewildered look and he narrows his eyes at me. "Work," he says one more time before truly leaving. This time I wait a few minutes to be sure he's long gone before I decide I'll take a quick nap. After all, he tired me out. But after _that_ I will be all over my textbooks.

**-iBB **and _**f **_**G **


	18. The Deviation Part III

**AN from IBB: **Even though it's a little late, here's our New Years present to all of you readers. Our lives are taking off again, but we do intend on finishing the_last_ chapter shortly so there will be no more wait. In the meantime, enjoy Part III of our trilogy. Oh, and for all of you people who have no idea what Euchre is, I recommend looking it up. It may be the game that Midwesterners play, but it should be famous all over the world.

**The Reformation of Kyle Broflovski**

**XVI. **The Deviation  
**Part III**

"Stan seriously! Move your ass! What are you, four years old?!" Kyle says, folding his arms in exasperation.

How can he expect me to be walking cheerfully beside him when I'm being lead straight to hell? It's the day of his little club's little get together, and to say I've been looking forward to this all week would be a slight exaggeration.

To say I've been dreading it more than the grade I'll see on my exams would be more of an accurate statement. I'm still irritated with the way I was conned into going in the first place. Kyle may've thought he was tricky, but that just gave me another reason to hate this damn cult of his. He'd NEVER do something that evil without the influence of Miller and his gang of assholes.

But yet here I am, walking willingly into my own funeral. Into a pit of fire and damnation. Into-

"Stan if you don't stop mentally comparing social outings to hell, I'm going to sign you up for volunteer work at the HHS community center," Kyle threatens. I stare at him blankly. How does he do that!

Reluctantly I follow his lead, past the buildings I know as the somewhat-uncomforting-place-I-will-never-call-home of JV, and into this narrow walkway the opposite end from the dorms. I always thought JV was a closed campus, but as we near the end of this passage, I see that there's a gate that opens to a small cluster of student housing.

Kyle huffs at me, dropping his shoulders impatiently when I slow down to absorb this new information. I didn't even know this place existed! I look to my right and spy a couple shops. Ah, so that's where the pizza we order comes from.

"We're almost there. Miller lives on the corner of 4th and Main," Kyle states, and I stop dead in my tracks.

"Miller?" I whine. "We're going to Miller's house?" Come to think of it, I've never even questioned where that brat lived. I guess I just assumed he dwelled in some inner lair with all the other demons…

Kyle laughs and pulls my arm to get me walking again. "The Main St house is where we hold all of our festivities. It's the founding house of the HHS here at JV," he informs me, and I do a double take at the large three-story Second Empire style house we've stopped in front of. I take a moment to scan the mansard roof and the wrought iron cresting that lines the cornice. It even has paired columns at the entryway and a little Cupola. This house is absolutely breathtaking! How can that prick Miller stay here? Kyle senses my astonishment and laughs again.

"You're not allowed to fall in love until you get inside," he informs me, finishing his trek up through the gate and to the large double doors.

As we get closer I start to hear the muffled sound of voices behind the thick maple doors, and I wait in anticipation as Kyle knocks a few times before answering without any cue to tell him we're allowed in. The sound increases tenfold and I immediately see all the faces matching the voices. Faces of guys I've ignored, side stepped, and all out avoided. I cannot believe I am in this house, this amazing house…with such people.

Luckily the sight of a grand fireplace takes my attention and I draw away from Kyle to wander toward it. It looks like it was really built here when the house was. I mean, yes the Second Empire was from the Victorian era and all that but, this house has a slight modern flair, so it was probably built in the 20's, with renovations made sometime recently as I don't remember marble being a key feature in the original fireplaces.

As I reach out to gloss my hand over the marble, my eye catches sight of a few people headed in my general direction and I drop my hand back down to my side. I almost forgot where I was and who I was surrounded by.

"Stan, hey!"

"Oh," I say when I recognize the brunette. "Marc, I didn't know you'd be here."

"Well of course!" he smiles at me in that usually cheerful grin of his and I almost smack my head. Naturally he'd be here, he's HHS. Sometimes I forget that. He seems so…normal, down-to-earth…and he's been nothing but kind and helpful. "Let me introduce you," he says smiling and turns to the group of guys beside him.

He lists off the names of the four guys around him, but it kind of goes in one ear and out the other. I have no reason to remember their names.

"Where's Kyle? He's the one that invited you, right?" Marc asks, and in doing so he's got me wondering. I scan the area not seeing him in my line of vision.

"Good question," I mutter. "I got kinda mesmerized by the fireplace," I admit sheepishly and rub the back of my neck. Marc laughs. A rich and honest laugh that eases my nerves a little bit.

"I noticed."

"That's an Arch major for you," says a familiar voice behind me, and I turn to see Kyle and Miller standing together. Keeping the look of displeasure of my face, I take the offered beer Kyle hands me.

"Hm," I say in response to Miller's statement before taking a sip of my drink.

"I'm just kidding around Stan," Miller responds, walking over toward me. He raises his arm to my shoulder, but pulls it away quickly after feeling Kyle's glare of death. I have half a mind to laugh out loud, but refrain due to the fact that I refuse to have any kind of amusement or entertainment in this house. Not with them.

Instead I glare at Miller, who in turn drops his hand in his pocket and nods to Kyle. Kyle's expression dissolves into thin air and he smiles warmly back. I do NOT understand those two, and I don't really feel the need to anymore. I know enough by now to know that if Kyle were to give Miller what he wanted…I wouldn't be here right now. That in itself gives me enough power to boldly walk over and stand beside my boyfriend. I turn to Kyle and force a smile.

"Thanks for the drink," I tell him, tipping my cup in acknowledgement. I don't really know what else to say to him when fourteen thousand other HHS members are breathing down my neck.

He grins and snakes his arm around my back. "I'll be right back. I'm going to snag a few more guys I want you to meet," he informs me, and kisses me on the cheek.

I groan in annoyance and watch his backside retreat, leaving me alone with Miller, Marc, and seven other guys who have joined the "fun." They all stare me down with a cup in one hand and their pocket in the other. Even their movements are echoing Miller's. It makes me shudder.

"I hope yesterday's practice wasn't too much for you, Stan," Miller pipes up, and all eyes rest on my lips, waiting for an answer.

"It was no big deal."

"If you're struggling out on the field, we can always set up some time to work one-on-one," he says, and I scoff. Is he for real? Or is he just saying this to put up a front. To make me THINK that I'm welcome in this house.

"I'll be fine," I tell him through gritted teeth before another guy steps in.

"Kyle tells us you've been having trouble in physics, Stan. Josh and I would be glad to help you out at your convenience."

Miller glances around the room to see that Kyle is out of sight before he drapes his arm around my shoulders, pulling me in close. "JV can be difficult to master at times, Stanley. We've all had those days. We're here to help you," he offers.

I roll his arm off my shoulder and take a step to the side. "Yeah, I'll remember that. But no thanks, I'm FINE," I repeat. It's a straight up lie, and I can tell they know that too, but luckily no one presses me further on it.

From that conversation stems some other topic, and I quickly find myself tuning out. I glance at each of the guys intently. You really wouldn't think they were part of a psychotic club. They don't have the words HHS stamped on their foreheads, and the way they're all laughing together and enjoying conversation reminds me of what it's like to have a good group of friends.

To spend hours talking, playing a few games, even just sitting around in boredom wondering what you ought to do. I miss those times.

"You okay?" I hear a murmur and refrain from jumping at Marc's low voice. I only nod and look into my cup. "You're such a liar," he says in an even lower tone and I glance at him in surprise. He's smiling and gesturing his head to the side. I glance over to where he's looking. It's toward the back of the house away from the current group. Away from Miller.

He nods and grins before piping up, "hey, Stan and I are going to get some more drinks, anyone else want one?" There's a round of "no thanks," and "nopes," and with that, Marc and I walk off away from the others.

"Thanks," I say sighing.

"I could tell that wasn't exactly your niche. Those aren't my favorite people either, they're nice guys but they kinda like to hear themselves talk," he laughs while I give him a weak smile.

"Then why hang around them?" I wonder.

"Well they're not bad or anything," he shrugs. "Besides, I ran into them and we started a conversation just before we saw you and Kyle arrive. In any case, I'm just as happy as you are to get away from them for awhile."

I snort. "You mean you're not all buddy buddy?"

Marc smirks and I eye him curiously. "Just because you're in the same club as someone doesn't mean you have to love them."

He has a point and I nod understandingly, thinking back to my own sports days. I might have been part of a team, but I wouldn't have trusted some of those guys within a ten feet pole…it's kinda weird to think the HHS is the same. That makes them sound a tiny bit…well…normal.

"Do you have any close friends?" I find myself saying before I've realized it slipped out. I meant to ask if he had any close friends inside the society.

Marc laughs at this heartily, and I feel the urge to join in. It's not the forced laughter I've heard from the other guys—Marc doesn't pretend to be some hoity-toity stuck up prince like they do. He clasps my shoulder and points to the backdoor with the index finger of the hand holding his beer. "Feel like some fresh air?" he asks me. I nod, and he drops his hand, walking forward as I follow him out the door.

We step out and down the concrete steps to a dazzling courtyard hidden by tall, thick shrubbery. I scan the backyard and note how surprisingly large it is. We're still on the built wooden porch, but if we ventured out another six feet or so, we'd step into the beautiful greenery set up around an antique birdbath. Farther out yet is a rickety old storage shed with a sand court and volleyball net attached. To the right of that is a patch of undisturbed grass, and beside that is a gravel pit and a miniature amphitheater. I speculate that is where they hold séances and their praying to the devil. To this thought, I scoff and turn my attention back to Marc.

"Wow, this is nice," I say, trying my best to quell my amazement. I spin my head around to marvel again at the intricate designs of the eaves and cresting.

"It's an architect's dream," he states aloud exactly what I was thinking. How I'd love to move in, fix this place up, give it a nice healthy glow and be a proud owner. I'd do a much better job than the creeped out fucks that are using it right now. Marc leans in to me real secretively. "You know, after next year, I'm set to move in."

"Really?" I over exclaim. "How'd you manage to pull that off?"

He shrugs and goes back to his original stance. "I'm just that lucky, I guess. If I have things go my way, the archy's will be the ones to rule this castle. We deserve it the most, you know?" he says with a wink.

I smile back and think about what he just said. If he has it his way. I wonder if he was one of them who voted for me as their next recruit. And if so, am I a likely candidate for his plan of an all-architect take over? I catch myself overanalyzing this concept until he brings me back to the present.

"So, word around here is that you're having more trouble than what you'd originally thought with your classes," he begins. I sigh noticeably. "Stan, why didn't you say so? I'd be happy to help you out as much as you need!"

His sincerity bothers me. For all I know, he could be just like them and really not have any sincerity at all. Maybe he's just really good at acting like he cares…

"You're overanalyzing the thought that someone might genuinely want to help you, aren't you?" he asks and I find my eyes narrowing slightly.

"Are you and Kyle related?"

He laughs and shakes his head, "no, but it's obvious. The way you look at all of us, at me, you're criticizing us in your head. Sizing us up, telling yourself we can't possibly have any good intentions, aren't you?"

I swallow the lump in my throat. I knew I was transparent—I hadn't been caring. I had been hoping I seemed that way to them…but not so much with Marc. I still don't like admitting it but Marc…Marc is different. He's real.

"No need to look so guilty," he chuckles. "Look, how about this. I can tutor you in tech drawing and we can do it anywhere you like. It doesn't have to be here or at Ambrose Hall. We can do it in the library, wherever, but you have to admit that studying on your own isn't working, okay?"

I rub the back of my neck. "…Well," I start out slowly before dropping my hand back to my side. I study Marc's eyes, his stance…he looks relaxed but concerned. I don't see a trace of a second agenda but I've been known to be wrong when it comes to reading people. I was never really good at it anyway, that was always Kenny's thing. "I guess…it wouldn't hurt to have you help me…a little bit," I add.

He smiles triumphantly. "You'll see I'm a great tutor!"

"We'll see," I say and find myself smiling back at him. "I'm a pretty difficult student."

"Nothing I can't handle. Now since we're on it, what are your other classes?"

I groan, "don't you have to study for your own classes? You can't help me _all_ the time."

"True, and I don't intend to. I will make you work Stan; I'm not a great tutor for nothing. These next few weeks will be hard on you academically, and I've been known to be a bit of a dictator when it comes to tutoring."

I see something flash in his eyes, and before I can stop it I find myself saying, "_there's_ the HHS member in you."

He looks taken aback at first before he starts laughing. "What can I say? We're all natural born leaders, regardless of what kind of leading style it is that we take."

"Are we talking about how Marc becomes a neo Nazi when it comes to teaching others?"

Marc and I turn at the sound of a third and highly amused voice. I've seen this guy around before, in hallways and the meal hall, but I've never really focused on him before. He's of average height, about 5'10". Had I paid more attention to him I might have been a little bit more surprised at his appearance. With his black hair and ice colored eyes and pale skin…he kinda looks like a vampire. An Italian vampire. An Italian vampire with blue eyes.

"Neo Nazi is a harsh term," Marc criticizes without disagreeing.

"Have I signed myself up for something I should be backing away from?" I find myself asking as I look back and forth at Marc and the new guy.

"Don't get me wrong," he says and walks closer to us with his arms crossed. "Marc is a sure fire way to get an 'A' in a class you were previously failing, but its hard to appreciate that DURING the entire process."

Marc laughs again before gesturing to the guy. "Stan this is my best friend at JV, Jack. Jack, Stan."

"Right," he says nodding and holding out his hand for me to shake. I find myself looking at it before shaking it carefully. "Bit on the guarded side, aren't you?" he asks with a grin. "No matter, some of us were like that in the beginning," he says while shrugging.

"Jack," Marc says and they exchange looks, and I realize that they're having some sort of conversation with their eyes.

Jack shrugs again before stuffing his hands in his pocket. "Anyway, point is the best advice I can give you about Marc here is to just do what he says. It'll stop his bitching faster." He laughs to himself and Marc flushes but I can tell it's all in good fun. They're obviously close friends.

I decide to play along and take a step back, away from them. Throwing my hands up, I stare at Marc suspiciously. "Whoa, I don't know dude. If you're going to be a brutal dictator, I think its best I accept my failure with pride."

At this statement, Marc frowns. "Stan there is no pride in failure. And you're able to overcome it, I know it! Despite what this asshole is saying about me, I think you may _need_ that kind of rigorous schedule. After all, finals are less than 3 months away. You don't want to have to repeat your freshman year, do you?"

I shake my head. "I won't get that chance. They'll kick me out of here with a steel-toed boot if I don't pull my act together," I suddenly confess.

Again Marc and Jack exchange glances. This type of interaction makes me a bit uncomfortable, but I shake off any feeling of dread and try to give them a chance. If Jack is Marc's friend, he can't be all that bad.

"So Stan, I've heard a lot about you," Jack begins again, and that intensity I feel when I'm put on the spot sneaks up and grabs hold of me. I blink and force back any urge to retaliate with some lame stab at the HHS. I'm getting really tired of doing that anyway.

"Not all bad, I hope," I mutter tritely, realizing I'm holding up my end of the conversation with two very devout HHS members. Suddenly, I really don't feel so well.

"Its nice to meet another archy. Perhaps you can dispel any stereotypes about how insane they all are," Jack continues. He smiles warmly at Marc as he says this. "Do you find yourself up at all hours of the night to complete a project, Stan?"

I groan. Typically that's expected of a first year architect student. They are supposed to go above and beyond the normal waking hours of human life in order to achieve at least a moderate understanding of everything. Me, on the other hand, haven't stayed up past my biological curfew the entire duration of the school year unless it was to fool around with Kyle. Maybe that's why I'm failing…

They both look at me like I've said something horribly uncouth, and I blink twice to recall if I said anything at all. Shit, am I voicing my thoughts out loud again?

Jack stands for the longest time with his mouth open, unsure of what to say. Fuck, how much of what I was thinking did I just say? Dammit, that might've cost me a potential hangout buddy for the day. I mentally scold myself as they gather enough courage to either bail or go forth with a completely different conversation. One that doesn't involve the night activities of me and my boyfriend…

"So…I hear you have a pretty decent fast ball, is that true?" Jack attempts to reconcile the moment by switching topics. It's a good move, and I never thought I'd be so relieved to talk about baseball again. Even though I'm not even impressing myself, so I know there's no way he could've heard such a thing. Maybe Miller is lying to make me seem more HHS-worthy than I really am.

"It's as decent as they come," I reply and the three of us fall into a more neutral conversational zone. Not to say that it's boring. Talking with Marc and Jack is actually enjoyable, and I find myself laughing more often than I planned. Before I know it we've settled ourselves on the porch ledge to continue talking. It's not until we're interrupted by the loud rumbling of mine and Jack's stomach that our discussion halts.

"My timing is impeccable," I hear Kyle's voice say, and the three of us turn to see him walking out onto the porch with three plates balanced on his arms. I notice that two of them are piled considerably higher than the third, which Marc takes with ease. I eye the two remaining plates, trying to decide which one has more food.

"They're both equal," the exasperated voices of both Kyle and Marc say. I glance over at Jack and realize he must have been doing the exact same thing as I. I knew I would like Marc's friends.

"Thanks Kyle," I say, already digging into the plate of ribs while listening to the other guys give Kyle their thanks. "Where've you been?" I ask upon realizing that I haven't seen him in what must be hours by now.

"Here and there," he answers in that ambiguous way he likes to use. "Just thought I'd come by, drop off some food and see how you were doing. Having fun?"

I catch the edge in his voice, and I know what he's doing. He's checking up on me.

I give him a nonchalant shrug and he gives me an amused look back. "Okay I'm checking up on you, but I'm going now. Marc, Jack," he says and gives them a nod. They nod back and Kyle walks back off to wherever he came from.

I watch him leave with a smile on my face. Those sorts of gestures are just cute to me. And what's even cuter is that he admitted to being a bit overprotective. And that he trusts me enough to hang out with these guys on my own without the need to stay glued to my side. We're a couple, not Siamese twins. I kind of like that we can mingle with different crowds and yet always come back to find our common ground.

Marc tilts his head to the side and sighs overdramatically. At the same time, he places his hand on his heart and flutters his eyes annoyingly. "Aww, aren't they so kew-ute!" he coos, earning a chuckle out of Jack. I feel myself blush.

"Shut up," I mumble, still smiling.

Jack grins, looking down at his nearly half-eaten plate. He doesn't say much except to snort at Marc's comments. Their interaction is much like Kyle's and mine, minus the additional…friendliness. What I mean to say is…they're normal. Their friendship is normal. If anything, their relationship is even _more _normal than Kyle's and mine! There isn't one who is plotting against another's other friend. There isn't one who keeps secrets from the other. Everything is out in the open, and they have a genuine interest in each other's lives. They don't even look or act like the type to be so devoted to a crazy cult-like club. Its almost as if they are regular guys, buddies that hang out at school together.

"You two are close, aren't you," I say, expressing my thoughts aloud.

Jack smiles as he finishes up his last spoonful of overflowed BBQ. Marc replies for the both of them. "Not like you and Kyle."

I laugh. "I didn't mean…that. I just…you hang out a lot together, right?"

They both nod.

"Outside of the HHS?"

This time they look at each other inquisitively before nodding. "There's no rule on who you can be friends with, Stan." Jack informs me.

Somebody should tell Miller that. I politely nod, accepting that as the truth. "Kyle's really the only one from HHS I ever hang out with," I say, as if that explains everything. Not that it does, I just realized I've never seen anyone outside of the HHS hang out exclusively with anyone inside of HHS. Maybe cause I've never cared enough to pay attention before. I stop daydreaming when I see both Jack and Marc staring at me.

Marc has a sort-of grin on his face. "You two…you're something else."

This time, I smile to myself. That's what Danny had said too. "I'm going to take that as a compliment," I tell him.

"It was meant to be."

"And Kyle's been different ever since you came here," Jack adds.

"He has?" I ask surprised. "How so?"

He shakes his head slightly, "not to bag on your man or anything, but he wasn't the most sociable guy for people like Marc and me."

People like them? "What do you mean?" I question, wanting to know more.

"There are two kinds of guys in this club," he starts.

"Jack," Marc starts to intercept in an exasperated tone.

"No, dude you know there are," he says pointedly to Marc before looking back at me. "Anyway like I was saying there are two types of guys in this club, the anal suck ups who eat, sleep, and breathe everything HHS related."

"Jack," Marc tries again, but this time his friend completely ignores him and goes on talking.

"And then there's the other guy, the one who just loves what the club can do, but realizes there's life outside it."

"And Kyle stands where?" I ask, though I already know the answer.

"The anal suck ups," he says bluntly before biting into some coleslaw. "And those guys usually aren't friendly with us down-to-earth types. And no offense, but I didn't like Kyle at first. He's a great member, one of the best we've ever had, I've heard."

"Why am I not surprised…" I mutter to myself and thankfully neither Marc nor Jack hears that comment.

"But the guy was completely unapproachable. Since you came here," he glances in the direction Kyle disappeared before looking back at me. "You changed him, and for the better." With that said he goes back to being a little bit more faithful to his food and I glance at my plate in surprise.

What he said causes a small smile to form on my face. Maybe its because I never knew how he was before I came here, but to hear that Kyle's changed because of me? Makes me feel a little bit more important to him, and hearing that from someone like Jack, someone I feel wouldn't bullshit me, makes it all the better.

I may not like the HHS, but I'm starting to appreciate the two members in front of me, regardless.

-

"STAN!"

I jump startled and peer sheepishly at Marc. He's got that look in his eye again and it makes me cringe. It's times like these that I appreciate capital punishment being banned. People like Marc don't need reasons to legally smack people around.

"Were you daydreaming again?" He asks, his eyes narrowing and I swallow a lump in my throat. I had been.

It's been a week since that barbeque, which okay, didn't end up being so bad. If anything I got myself another friend in Jack, and they introduced me to a few others. Jack was right in his comparison about the two types of HHS members. I clearly must have only been meeting the anal suck ups, because the easygoing guys are guys just like Kenny and me.

"If you don't give me your answer to the fifth problem in one minute…" I hear Marc's icy tone. I immediately focus on my paper and scribble out an answer holding it up the second I'm finished. He snatches it and glares at me before looking over the problem. I wait for him anxiously, watching as his face doesn't change. He suddenly hands the paper back to me.

"Satisfactory," he grumbles out and I sigh in relief.

When Jack told me Marc was a neo Nazi of a tutor, I completely thought it was all in jest, and good fun between friends. I didn't think he was serious. He even has the walk and the talk of a true dictator. I'd be lying if I said that didn't scare me.

At the same time, I know its all for my own good. He wouldn't be this strict if he didn't really care. Or if he didn't want to see me succeed. Just like Kyle, Marc thinks I'm worthy of more than a failing grade. And because of their faith in me, I can finally start to see light at the end of this ridiculously long tunnel.

Marc kneels down in front of my desk so that he's eye-to-eye with me. I shrink back at the intensity of his stare. "You are aware that it is nearing 6 o'clock, right?" he checks, and I nod. He taps his finger on the desk impatiently. "Stan, what time did we start this session?"

"One o'clock," I respond meekly.

"That's right!" he fires back, slamming his hand on the table before standing back up. Immediately he begins pacing. "On to the next problem…"

Wow, I almost feel like I need to answer all of his pointless questions with "yes, drill sergeant". Jack_did_ say he was crazy at this. So in all fairness, I guess I was warned. Still.

Jack threw me through a loop the other day. I guess I'd never saw him around campus cause I didn't know who he was, but he came up to me a few days ago and just started talking. Much like Jason and Marc. But this talk didn't stop when we hit the cafeteria together. Matter of fact, I just assumed we would part ways with at the tables so I could take my usual unlit booth, while he dined with the members of the HHS. Which is why I was more than a little surprised when he invited me to sit with a few of his friends, some HHS, some not. They all kind of sat away from that main group where Kyle used to be—and where Miller still hovers—but it was in the general vicinity.

Turns out Jack used to have quite the reputation in his hometown as the famous fast eater. He's won contests with all sorts of foods—he even has trophies from them. He and I talked for a while on that subject, and how he was embarrassed to be labeled as that in college. He says he's tried to tame down his eating habits considerably since then, but he still inhales his food ten times faster than I do. Needless to say, that impressed me.

Marc came along eventually, but it was after we were finished eating. And by that time, Jack had already introduced me to several other members.

"STAN!" Marc roars. "Pay attention!"

I sigh and shake my head clear of any and all other thoughts except calculus. I tap my pencil and look at the worksheet Marc gave me to help me along. I wonder if he made this thing up or if he got it out of the book. He really is a pretty smart guy. I can see why they'd say he'd be a good leader. I wonder why he isn't going into teaching. He'd also be a very good correction's officer.

Marc folds his arms in front of me, looking down on me and sighing. "You're hopeless," he mutters, but I don't think he's talking about my skill.

"I'm sorry!" I apologize and situate myself, blinking four times and lifting my eyebrows so that the material on the page is refreshed and planted into my memory. Okay, a cubic polynomial function f is defined by: f(x)4x3+ax2+bx+k where a, b, and k are constants. The function f has a local minimum at x-1, and the…

I wonder if I wouldn't have come here how Kyle would treat everyone. If he'd changed that dramatically in just a semester, I shudder to think about the Kyle I'd see when he visited for the summertime. Or if he ever _would_ visit for the summertime. Maybe he'd be like Jason and never go home. What if I lost him to this damn club like Austin thought he did with Jason?

I haven't talked to Austin in a while. Last time I did he and Kenny were having so much fun living together, I didn't want to disturb them with my stupid monotonous problems. Although I wouldn't consider them problems right now. More like hassles. Miller still sucks, now more than ever. I will _never_ respect that asshole. But even Kyle's friends—the realm of the anal suck ups—aren't getting on my nerves lately. Probably cause Kyle and I have established an understanding in our relationship that it's okay to have separate sets of friends. I don't really involve him in my group, and he doesn't expect me to hang out with his. Every once in a while, however, we'll be cool when we all go out together. It's even better when it's just the two of us.

"Ow, fuck!" I suddenly swear as I clamp my hand over the back of my neck. I look at Marc in complete astonishment. "Did you just fucking hit me?!"

"I won't tell you again Stan," he says calmly. "Please, I dare you, daydream one more time while I'm trying to save your sorry ass from expulsion."

My eyes widen slightly and I go back to writing out a problem. When I feel like my thoughts might drift away I get a tingling sensation in my neck, almost as a reminder of what Marc is capable of. Though his ice-cold eyes and hard-set frown are hard to deal with, I never thought he'd resort to physical violence against me. This is probably a situation that I'll laugh over in the far…far future.

For an agonizing hour I pummel away at my calculus problems and Marc is relentless. He never lets up, and just when I think I can take no more, when I feel my brain about to explode, Kyle walks into the classroom Marc and I were using to get some quiet as he helped me out.

He smiles at me as he takes a step in. "Almost done?" he asks, though he's looking at Marc.

Marc gives me a once over, and raises an eyebrow before he looks back over at Kyle, all smiles. His face has gone completely back to normal, back to the kind and considerate face of the guy I first met. Talk about two-faced, literally.

"I think so," he says. "Stan's made a lot of progress. I think you're all set for three chapters."

"Three?!" I say surprised and look down at all my notes and flip through the pages. It really was three chapters. Not especially hard ones, but three nonetheless. And only in six hours! That's how long it'd take me to do a fourth of that on my own…wow…I look at Marc, having new respect for his methods. I guess scaring people into submission really does work.

"Yes, you did well, I'm proud of you. You should be too Kyle," he adds nodding cheerfully.

"I figured there were some brains beyond that attractive brawn," Kyle smirks out and I frown, all the while trying to hold in my blush. Marc helps me gather my things and the three of us head out of the classroom.

"Where to now?" I ask conversationally.

"There's a major card game tournament going on at Miller's…who isn't there," Kyle adds as an afterthought.

"Oh yeah?" I question interestedly. "What sort of card game?"

"Just a little euchre is all," he says slyly peering over at me.

I grin, and turn to Marc who clearly doesn't get it. "We fucking kill at euchre."

"No, _you_ kill at it. I just play along," Kyle mumbles clearly.

Ignoring his compliment, I keep my focus on Marc. "Are you going too?"

He laughs lightly. "No, I have my own studies to do."

"Now I feel kinda bad," I slouch slightly. "You spent all that time helping me and now you can't come along."

He gives me a pat on the shoulder smiling. "They'll be other times. No, you guys go have fun, and tell me how it is. Jack should be there though," he offers and I grin at the idea.

"Cool, see you later then." I wave as he makes a different turn from where Kyle and I are headed. He gives us a wave before turning to face his direction.

"So, how was it?" Kyle asks after we've walked in companionable silence for a while.

"Brutal," I tell him honestly. "Marc's good, I'll give him credit, but he really is a dictator."

"Really? He didn't seem that way when I walked in," Kyle muses.

"That's because he had instantly turned off the Mr. Hyde act," I shudder slightly and remember the smack he gave my neck. It's probably best not to tell Kyle about that, not with his overprotective ways. Unlike Miller, I like Marc, and would like him to stay alive. "Are any of the other guys going to be there?" I ask Kyle as I adjust my messenger bag.

He glances at me for a moment before saying anything. He lists off some of the guys I've gotten friendly with the past week and I smile. "Awesome," I beam. "I hope they're up for a challenge."

"Hn" Kyle grunts lightly. "We'll see."

The minute we arrive at the aesthetically flawless house, I notice a distinct air of peacefulness. Sighing happily, I know it's due to the lack of Miller's presence. As I step into the foyer, I almost feel as if I've found a home. Almost.

"Stan! Kyle!" a cheery voice greets us, but I couldn't tell you who it belonged to. More and more members keep showing up every time. I'm beginning to think that Austin and I were the only ones _not_ members of the HHS. But I know that's silly. They're an exclusive club. And exclusive means you have to exclude people.

Regardless of who this guy is, his arms immediately drape around the both of us, and out of the corner of my eye, I see Kyle stiffen when the guy grips my shoulder. I quickly duck out of his grasp to avoid any unneeded confrontation. Kyle politely does the same and walks toward me. The guy introduces himself as Brian and says it's his house too, and he's the one holding the tournament. I smile as he takes our coats and tosses them in the downstairs bedroom, which I assume to be his. We follow him into the main corridor, which is lined with card tables leading all the way into the living room. There must be at least forty guys here! All on a Sunday night. I wonder if this is a common occurrence. If so, I might look into attending more often.

"Stan over here!" this guy Eric calls, gesturing for me to join their table. Some other guy I don't know is sitting across from him, and Jack is occupying a third seat in between them. There is only one empty chair.

I slow down the closer I get, realizing Kyle has followed me. I turn to him with a look of "what do I do?" He smiles at the trio before us.

"Trying to steal him away from me, are you?" he says with a friendly wink. In doing so, he puts his arm around my shoulder and squeezes tight.

Jack grins. "We want to play with the great master of Euchre…or so we've heard," he informs Kyle, but is speaking directly to me. Its funny. These guys are the first members who talk to me when talking about me. People like Miller would just address Kyle…it pissed the hell out of me. But Jack and his buddies, they treat me like one of them. I relax under Kyle's arm a bit when I realize this interaction is all pleasant.

Kyle turns to me and gives me a kiss on the cheek. Then he whispers into my ear, "go get 'em."

I look at him with surprise in my eyes. "You're okay with not being my partner?"

He nods with a grin. "I can afford to give up my winning ticket every now and then." I pull him in for a brief kiss before he walks away, finding his own spot amongst the game players.

"Okay Jack!" I say and plant myself across from him. "Let's see if you can live up to your name!"

"Har har," he says not at all amused. "As if I haven't heard that lame ass joke before." Everyone in our table laughs before the cards are quickly dealt and the game begins.

I wouldn't say that playing card games with those guys was the best time I've ever had, but it's definitely the most fun I've had since coming to JV. It's entirely casual and I finally feel like I've found my place among friends. Drinks are passed around, food, and laughter and conversation are shared as we try to get the best of one another.

Jack's surprisingly good at the game. I wouldn't say he had the skill to match my own, but we make a great team. Not nearly good as Kyle and I make, but pretty damn close in my opinion, so hours later when it's just Jack and I against two guys, Luke and Perry, I feel fairly confident that we have the game in the bag. The rest of the guys have lined up around us in one huge circle, waiting to see how it'll all play out, and of course Kyle is right behind me grinning and laughing with the rest.

That's the Kyle I missed most of all. The relaxed one. And not just relaxed in front of me, but people around us. God, I missed him. It's like we've gone back in time.

"Yes!" Jack suddenly shouts, drawing my attention back to the card pile in the middle of the table. He just laid the right bar on top, giving us three tricks to Luke and Perry's two. "We just euchred you!" he points out. "Which gives us," and he slides our point card revealing the last of the remaining diamonds, "two points. And that's 10 points!" He leans over slightly and gives me the hardest, most awesome high five. "Which means…" he trails off.

"We win!" We both shout, falling into laughter.

"Not exactly modest are they?" Eric chuckles.

"People with our skill," I start.

"And luck," Jack pipes in, while I nod.

"Have no reason to be modest," I finish, grinning.

Kyle squeezes my shoulders as the room erupts in laughter and loud talking. I feel kinda woozy, not because of the drinks, but because of the atmosphere. It was just a card game, but it felt like an event. "Aw crap, guys, meeting's in fifteen we gotta bolt!" Someone calls out, and the talking diminishes slowly as the guys start to separate. Or in the case of the members at my table, start to stand and clean up the mess we made. Without being asked to, I help out, putting cards away and disposing trash. With Kyle slightly ahead of me and talking with another guy, I fall into step with Jack and Eric as we relive the Euchre game of the century.

"We were about to win," Eric says in his defense.

"Dude, denial isn't good for you. You lost the first game against us. You couldn't have come back from that," Jack says clapping his hand on Eric's shoulder.

We step outside into the night air, and someone locks up the place behind us. Walking together as one giant group, still chattering away, I realize I don't mind the cold if it's with so many people. As we round the corner, Jack nudges my shoulder and Eric gives me a grin.

"See ya later dude, awesome game!" Eric says, and Jack nods in agreement. I frown as they say this, and I'm about to respond in confusion when Kyle grabs a hold of my elbow. I hadn't even noticed him.

"Wait up for me tonight okay?" he asks, his voice a bit on the husky side. Normally I would be reddening like hell, but I'm way too confused.

"What's going on? Where is everyone going?" I ask, looking ahead at the group that's slowly getting further way from me.

Kyle gives me a look I can't read. "The meeting, the HHS meeting?" He emphasizes and I feel a weight press down inside of me. I had completely forgotten about that. It's Sunday night, and it's nearing midnight. How the hell had I forgotten? It's a dumb question because I know how. I got so caught up in the camaraderie that I forgot who my new comrades were. "You can get back to the dorm yourself, right?"

I glance at Eric and Jack, Luke and Perry…

"Stan?" Kyle questions, and I can hear the worry in his voice.

"Mh, yeah I'll be fine," I say. "Uh, have a good meeting."

He scrunches his eyes together before he leans in to give me a light, lingering kiss. "I will. See you tonight," he says as he backs away. He turns and jogs off to catch up with everyone else and I turn to go my own way. Back to the dorms. Alone.

-

Three weeks. Three fucking weeks of the same goddamn thing.

I slam the door to our room and fall on the bed, face first. Once again, they've all been called to their regular meeting, and Kyle has to detach me from the mob before I go into some place I shouldn't. I keep forgetting that they're all members of the same damn club, and whenever I let my guard down on Sunday nights, I find myself lying alone in disappointment before I can even comprehend how it happened.

Being that it's midnight, I have at least another hour and fifteen minutes before I can expect him to come in quietly, pretend I'm asleep, crawl into bed, and snuggle up to me closer than ever before. Not that I mind it…we've actually grown rather accustomed to this two-person per one-tiny-bed ordeal…but still. I'm sick of being deposited back here a few hours before everyone else calls it quits! I feel like they've placed a fucking bell on my collar and I have to be home by curfew otherwise I'm punished.

What are they doing while I'm in here by myself? They're all continuing their good time, I'll tell you that much. So what if they're holding meetings about who should be branded next…that's just like some sort of membership tattoo, right? And I have yet to hear Jack, Marc, or even Eric, who I've become quite fond of throughout this, talk about brothers or use creepy undertones the way Miller does. Hell, I don't even hear Kyle say that shit as much as I used to. And if Miller is the only one I can't stand anymore, the group really isn't all that bad to hang around.

I groan and punch my pillow, bored out of my mind. We had to stop our movie marathon night so that they could all attend the stupid chapter meeting! What would happen if I just stayed and watched the rest of the movie? Would I be kicked out since I'm a non-member? What if I'm just welcomed when everyone else is around to see my actions? Do they not trust me?

No, that can't be it. After all, they're the ones that keep inviting me places. It's not even Kyle most of the time now. Sure he has no problems with it, but he's sometimes the last to invite me to places like the two-day camping trip where we went canoeing, or the Friday night pizza night, or even the overnight study session they had for anyone willing. Marc told me to go that one, and it definitely paid off. Not only did we study for a total of twelve hours, we also played a mean game of Halo for our study break. On the biggest TV screen you could ever imagine.

And now, thanks to Marc and his genius, I am passing all of my classes with a low B average. A few more months and my finals should pull me up at least a high B, possibly A. I really owe him one. He's a great guy.

And that's just the thing. Most of the guys I've been getting close with are great people. They're just regular guys with one thing bringing them together, that's it. Just like any other club or fraternity. And frankly I'm fucking tired of being the one that didn't get to rush.

I sigh for the millionth time in a month and roll over to look at the ceiling. I hate this. I hate having to be alone regularly, without fail, like this. It makes me miss Austin more. He'd be the person I'd hang out with if I felt too lonely like I do now…maybe I could give him and Ken a call…but no. It's too late in the evening to be calling anyone. Kenny would have my hide for waking him up for anything less than an emergency.

Maybe a bit of TV will help me fall asleep and get my mind off all this…

Rolling over I grab the remote that's resting on the floor beside the bed and flick it on. Naturally, only shit is on, but at least they're voices. Voices that I continue to listen to for longer than a sane person should. Obnoxious voices trying to sell me crap like blenders that double as camera's, but voices nonetheless. And actually…I prop myself up on my elbows to study the two people on the TV. The woman is making a good point to the man about why such an invention is practical.

…And it's only ten payments of $19.95. Hm…

I reach out blindly to find my cell phone. My mom and dad could probably use one of those things. Kyle might like one too.

"Oh Jesus Christ."

That's odd. That woman sounded just like Kyle for a second. The TV suddenly flicks off and I blink, trying to get the afterglow of the set out of my line of vision. I look over and see Kyle sighing to himself as he lowers onto the edge of the bed.

"Infomercials?" He questions and I nod curiously. "That means you're dead bored and lonely."

"I am not!" I protest and avoid his accusing eyes. "Now if you could hand me my phone," I say. He kicked it over slightly when he sat down.

"No way, you don't need whatever contraption that was."

"That contraption, as you call it, was your Christmas present!"

He looks at me mildly concerned and I look away, annoyed at him. He reaches out and rubs my bangs from my forehead as if he's feeling for a temperature. I turn away from it. "I'm not sick," I say bluntly.

"I didn't think you were," he answers back with an intense expression. "Stan, what's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong." He gives me a look. I huff. Sometimes I really hate that he knows me so well. "I'm just…bored and lonely," I admit to what he only just said a moment ago. "Every time it's you, me, and the guys, you all have to go off and leave me behind. A guy gets tired of being the one left out, you know?" It's rhetorical, and luckily Kyle takes it as such.

"Well…" he starts and his voice sounds very hesitant and unsure. "You could always…you could come to a meeting with us next week?"

All the little noises you usually hear when you think there's silence halt. I stare at Kyle, wondering if he's for real. But he looks it. There's not a hint of a joke in his eyes as he studies me and waits for my answer.

Go to an HHS meeting? I've already been…but they're probably not _all_ like that. That was a special case…the branding probably doesn't happen every week. And like I thought before, what's the big difference between a branding and a bunch of friends all going out to get the same tattoo or something? There isn't one, just the degree of pain. And…Kyle said not everyone gets it. That it's more like a right of passage, and who ever heard of a right of passage being easy and painless?

If I went, that would mean it wouldn't ever just be me alone on Sunday nights. I'd be hanging out with Marc, and Jack, and all the others. Most importantly I'd be with Kyle. Kyle and I would have the honesty I've wanted from the start. We'd finally get to close that gap that's always been between us since I got here, that gap created entirely by him being in the HHS and me being an outsider.

If I went…that would mean I'd be falling into their aims to recruit me.

"Uh…I don't know," I reply unsurely, starting to feel the effects of staying up and watching crap TV kick in. Kyle urges me to scoot over and I do so, allowing him to lay right beside me. He looks into my eyes, trying to decode my hesitation.

"Stan you just said you were lonely…"

"I know," I cut him off, and I don't try to do it meanly. I'm just in awe that he could ever ask that of me. That they'd actually say it'd be okay! "I just need to think about it, o-okay?"

He grins, leaning over and pressing his lips passionately into mine. Without saying another word, he rolls me over onto my back until he's on top of me and we're concluding the night the way we always do. I close off my brain to any kind of thoughts and just let myself experience Kyle once again. After all, he's the reason I came here. The reason I'm _still_ here.

When we've exhausted ourselves, Kyle turns out the light and wraps his arms around me. Even though it's become a routine, I can honestly say I like it that way. I'm not saying I won't get bored of doing the same thing every Sunday, but we're still new at the whole relationship thing. I smile into his protective arms as they envelope me in a warmth that only Kyle can give me. I don't think I've ever felt this comfortable in my life. I belong in his arms.

I feel my forehead crinkle up in confusion as I ponder this statement. Belonging in Kyle's arms would be ten times sweeter if he allowed me into the ever-present force field I feel whenever we're around each other. In fact, I think I'd feel even more relaxed when being with him if we shared it all together.

He tightens his hold a bit, and I know he's settling into a deep sleep. Nowadays I wear him out and he's out like a light before I even collect my thoughts enough to settle down. My mind is still racing with possibilities, but for this particular night, I'm thinking of only one thing.

Kyle asked me to attend their next meeting. He wants _me_, the guy who refuses to bend to any kind of HHS stereotype, to join _him_, the king of all the anal suck ups, to a meeting where my most hated enemies gather. Only, they aren't my hated enemies anymore. Matter of fact, most of them I can call my friends. Just because of that, though, it doesn't mean I want to become one of _them_, does it?

I sigh, trying my best to turn over onto my back to stare at the one who started it all. Kyle's mouth is parted slightly as he breathes deeply in and exhales slowly. It's not quite a snore, but it's not silence either. I watch as his eyes flicker when the light from the moon shines sporadically onto them. And I feel an intense desire to be with him, like this, for as long as I can. Even though I know we'll eventually wake up and have to part ways for Monday's classes, we'll still be right here. In this place—our own dorm room. The place where we have had a lot of firsts—our first kiss, our first major fight, our first make up, our first sleep over, our first relationship discussion, our first psuedo-breakup…the list goes on. And I can't help but wonder, if I haven't left already, am I really ever going to? And if I'm planning on staying, do I really want to be so far away from Kyle when I could be closer than I ever thought possible?

He wants me to join his club. He wouldn't have recommended me if he didn't think I was worthy of its membership. And after seeing how devoted Kyle is, I don't think he'd ever just want me in there because I'm his boyfriend. No, I think he really believes in me. And if it means that much to him…

I close my eyes and find myself drifting off as I weigh the advantages and disadvantages. I know I'd be sacrificing my entire belief system about who the HHS is and what they stand for. I'd be compromising my sanity, my individuality, perhaps even my personality. I'd become part of something I used to loathe for a reason, but can no longer think of why.

But I'd be doing it all with the guy who needs me and wants me here with him through it all. Kyle is my everything, and if I did this, I could finally be his.

Even so, I've been fighting against everything the HHS stood for since the day I got here. My fight represents my friendship with Austin, my refusal to not jump on the bandwagon and follow the crowd. A reminder to myself that I'm not a follower and that I never have been.

Supposing I agreed to go to the meeting—where would that put me with Kenny? With Austin? Danny? My family? I know for a fact Kyle hasn't spoken to his parents in a long time. He finds himself too busy doing HHS things. Will the same thing happen to me? Will I forget the life I had before I came here? I can't say I wont, I mean…how would I tell my parents about this? They'd want to visit, and while my dad would probably make nothing of it, my mom is a mom. She's sharp; she'd notice the same sort of things I first noticed when I came here.

Was it only three months ago that I felt so different? Was I really fighting so hard with Kyle? Calling the HHS a cult, an abomination, and whatever else flew from my lips. As much as I hated being separated from Kyle, part of me liked the feeling of thinking I was smarter than them. Because I hadn't gotten dragged in, I wasn't easily influenced; I knew how to think for myself.

I can't even tell who's changed here. Did the HHS change because I got to learn more about them, or have I changed? If I have, to what extent? What do outsiders see me as now? Do I seem like a member; am I as stuck up as I used to think all the other members were?

I squeeze my covers tightly. I'm still me, aren't I? All these fucking questions I'm asking myself, it's me asking them right? I haven't been influenced by them…have I?

I can't tell anymore.

Kyle shifts slowly beside me, releasing a sigh in his sleep and I reach over to rub his cheek lightly. Just enough to not wake him, but to let a relative calm fill me. I love this guy, more than I thought I could at first. He understands me in ways no one else does, in ways Kenny can't even hope to achieve.

But what makes us so good together is we're different, we're like corresponding puzzle pieces. We have our similarities of course, but I love Kyle for who he is. And I know he feels the same way about me. He's always liked my strong will and resistant behavior, for the most part. And he's liked that I've always stood up for what I've believed was right.

But the HHS is different; it's different to him. But so is he and…I think I am as well. Still…as I feel as sleep overtakes my body, I release my hold on Kyle's cheek and turn away from him so my back is to him. As I look through our shared window I find myself asking…is it worth it?

**i**_**BB**_ and _**f **_**G**


	19. XVI The Reformation

**AN from IBB: **So this is it. It was a blast to plan and write, and we're sad to say that its come to a close. Thank you to the dozens of reviewers and hundreds of readers who helped fuel this story. We're so happy that one with so many original characters could survive for as long as it did. And no, we won't be planning a sequel.

**AN from FG: **We love the ending as it is since it was planned _long_ before chapter one was even typed up. We love you guys, thanks so much for the support! If you do have any questions, as undoubtedly you might, feel free to ask. I don't know if IBB wants to answer any, but I wouldn't mind. Well, without further ado, enjoy our last chapter!

**The Reformation of Kyle Broflovski**

**XVI. **The Reformation

When I first came to JV, I didn't really know what to expect. Sure, I knew it was going to be tough keeping up my grades in such a prestigious private school. And I knew that I'd make at least _some_ friends, considering how sociable I was in high school. Other than that, though, my mind was a clean canvas.

I guess I was looking to feel at home some place other than home. And be well liked and enjoy spending time with my dozens of close friends and acquaintances. And I guess I was hoping that things would develop with Kyle. As much as I denied it at first, I'd had a thing for him longer than I care to admit. And seeing that he wanted me here, I was eager to see if it was because he missed my friendship, or if he felt the same way.

But I never dreamed that I'd befriend the only outcast of the school—therefore turning _me_ into one—and find myself on the losing end of a battle between us and the rest of the school. I never thought that I'd be the one who was suspicious of everyone because I never knew who to trust and who were my enemies. I never imagined that I'd be sleeping with Kyle at night and fighting against him during the day because of our differences in beliefs. That I'd be second-guessing my actions and questioning my friend's intentions. If I would've known all of that, who knows where I'd be today? I guarantee I wouldn't be sitting here right now.

I look over at Kyle, who is standing a few feet in front of me. He's grinning down at me, and I know that words cannot express what I mean to him. I realize this now.

After debating over and over whether I should go to one of their meetings, I figured that it couldn't hurt. After all, I had already secretly went to one—what would it matter if I saw another? They couldn't _all_ be as crazy as that freak show I witnessed three months ago. Plus, in all honesty, I was curious to see what my friends were doing when they left me behind.

So I went with him. And I found out that, not only do they hold regular meetings, but they also talk about generally interesting news. They discuss important matters in the world today, but mainly how it affects them as a group. They discuss how to make JV life better for everyone on campus. They're not the selfish, insane creeps I once thought they were. In fact, they have a lot of good in them that I refused to see before.

Now that I think about it, maybe I had let my hatred for the group who stole Kyle consume me, leading me to believe they're some kind of psychotic cult. When in fact, they are just regular guys, most of whom I get along with astoundingly easily. If it weren't for Marc, or Jack, or even Eric, Luke, and some of the other guys, I wouldn't have been able to accept Kyle's invitation. But seeing that the majority of my friends are now HHS, and knowing how cool they all are, I had to tell myself that the meetings—and the rest of the members—couldn't be as bad as what I originally thought.

Turning my attention my left, I see Jack, stone-faced and paying attention. Further down from him is Marc; the sole reason I've been able to bring my grades up to a steady B average. He says I should have no problems acing finals. I fully intend to not let him down.

A few rows back from him are the rest of my buddies, all standing in a clump. I smile to myself, thinking about our group. I fit in so easily with the down-to-earth members, and it's so easy to forget who they are and where they belong. And that's okay, because they're not bad guys.

I'm even finding some common ground with the anal sucks ups, and just the thought of what Jack refers to them as makes me laugh. They are mostly in fact anal and they're most definitely suck ups, but I understand why. They're just another set of guys that take their responsibilities and titles a little differently than everyone else.

And okay, they're still not my favorite, but I can hold a steady, comfortable conversation with all of them. Well, except Miller. That guy and I…we're just never going to get along, and it's not just because of Kyle. It's also for another reason and it took me awhile, but I think I'm starting to figure it out.

And not to toot my own horn, but for a guy that was so resistant to the mere mention of the HHS, I'm pretty damn accepted among them. That's not just due to Kyle's influence either.

When I think about it now, I may have shunned a few kids back when I was younger, but I more or less went along with everyone. Even in college it's no different when I finally accept people for who they are. Imagine my surprise when one of the anal suck up's (ASU's for short), came up to me one day, albeit hesitantly, but still came up to ask me my opinion on something. Marc and Jack were around at the time and I could practically feel them raise their eyebrows in surprise. Because no matter how much the HHS members try to act like one group of best friends, they're really more like brothers. Meaning they do have their fights, physically and verbally at times. And there's always been an invisible barrier between the two groups.

So it was a bit shocking when the ASU, Jay, approached me. But I kept my cool, and before I knew it he was thanking me with a smile and went on his way. It's been like that ever since I started going to the card games. It's something Miller and I, regrettably, share. We're both liked by everyone, and in my personal opinion, I think I'm liked more. And for a guy who thought an entire school detested him, I'd say that's something.

Jack coughs, bringing my attention to where it is needed. He's good at keeping me on track, just like Marc is good at shoving me when I need a good push in the right direction. All of these guys genuinely enjoy my presence, and I'm not about to turn down blossoming friendships just because they do or do not belong to some club I used to hate.

"Stan, pay attention," the guy to my right scolds. I feel like laughing. I don't even know him, but he must know of my habitual tendency to daydream in even the most important of occasions.

I nervously fidget, even though I'm not really nervous at all. Why would I be? I've finally found the friends I've been looking for the entire time I've been at JV. Hell, its only taken me four months to get here, but so what? Now I'm in a room surrounded by them! And they're all here tonight for me.

I gaze at Kyle as he watches the crowd, anticipating their reactions as he begins his speech. If I know Kyle—and I think I do—he's had this thing written since day 1 when he knew what my answer would be. Even if I would've never complied, he'd written it just in case. Because he's anal like that. I chuckle lightly and the guy to left of me nudges my shoulder to shush me, though he is smiling. If anything, one of my goals here is to lighten everyone up. I know it's an important meeting, I know more than anyone else how important this is, but really…there's nothing wrong with having a bit of fun in anything you do, right?

I brush my nose thoughtfully and swipe my hair out of my face. Kyle looks ready to talk so I guess I ought to give him my attention. I'm just as curious as everyone else in this room as to what he wrote and how he'll deliver it. I've never seen Kyle give a public speech of this nature.

"I first met Stan…" his gaze falls on me for a second. "Brother S," he continues. "When we could barely speak proper English."

I want to laugh at the thought—ahh preschool—but hold it in. Kyle will kill me later if he knows I laughed during this important meeting. I know it means a lot to him to give this speech, and I should be a little more appreciative. Especially since he told me the president, AKA Miller, tends to give the induction speeches. Good thing for me Miller still bends over backward to make Kyle happy…it's starting to come in handy for me.

"I was drawn to him from the start," Kyle's voice rings out over the large crowd, echoing powerfully against the thick windowless walls. As I watch him deliver his speech, a speech written for me…all_about_ me…I feel the power of his words. I completely understand why he is so right for this club, why the HHS wouldn't be whole without him. "He was outgoing, funny, and full of mischievous ideas," and at that I swear I see his eyes twinkle.

"But most importantly he was a friend, and not just to me. But to everyone who came in contact with him. He's always been that way, drawing people in, even if they didn't want to be. Even our most hated enemies," he's gotta mean Cartman, "felt compelled to stay at his side. And I know you all feel the same way as I do."

Hearing the general murmur of agreement swell through the crowd, I can't even try to contain my blush. For my sake, I hope they _don't_ feel the exact same way. I don't think I can handle a jealous Kyle slaying anyone who touches my shoulder with the slightest bit of affection.

"I have the distinct privilege of formally introducing you all to one of the strongest, most caring individuals you will ever meet," he continues. At this point, I've accepted that my cheeks will be stained with pink throughout his speech. "In addition to his easy-going personality and obvious charm, Brother S has a passion for life that we rarely see in men our age. He shares this passion in everything he does—including his path for a career, his family, his friends, and his relationships. His enthusiasm and quest for the truth will make him an extremely effective communicator, an honest friend, and a loyal member.

"When Brother S first came to JV, a few of us were thrown off by his apparent hatred for our organization. Some of us might've thought he was a bit judgmental," and his eyes flash at me as he voices that word, "before he actually took the time to realize how beneficial a brotherhood like this can be." He shakes his head. "That's neither here nor there, because tonight we celebrate Brother S's forthcoming into our society as one of our own." He turns toward Miller and gestures for him to continue with the induction. Apparently Kyle isn't allowed to do this part.

Slowly rising from where he had been seated, Miller approaches the front of the room and I can just FEEL the atmosphere change. They respect him. I don't think I'll ever understand why, but they do. All eyes are on him and he glances around the room, meeting the eye of what seems like every member in the club until he finally lays his eyes on mine.

He smirks. I smirk back and wait.

"Unlike the rest of you, Brother S did not have my vote of confidence," he begins and I snort and lean back slightly. "I didn't feel that he was the sort of person that would further our plans, or our goals. But I had faith in all of you, in your choices," he pauses. "And while he was under my scrutiny, I did everything in my power to see if I could find the faults in him that I didn't believe some of us could see. Faults that would deem him inappropriate for a club of our standing."

Talk about laying on the insults—and I can't even defend myself. Not while the great Cap-E-tan is talking.

"And yet…" he's looking back at me, and I have to keep my face neutral. "I've been proved wrong. And I, like the rest of you, welcome him into our ranks as a member of the High Honors Society."

Did…he just apologize for his assholish ways?

"Brother S?" He calls out toward me, even going so far as to raise his hand in my general direction. Rows and rows of eyes turn to look at me, but the only ones I care for are Kyle's. He's never looked so proud.

With a bit of a heavy sigh, I shake my head slightly and stand to head toward Miller. His arm lowers as he reaches my side and he glances over behind him, drawing my attention in the same direction.

Two fellow members, dressed in their typical black apparel, step up to the central table from where Kyle just concluded his speech. One I notice, however, has a white towel draped over his outstretched arms. The other is carrying a basin filled with some sort of liquid. Miller gives them a nonverbal cue, and the one holding the basin lowers it to the table. The other carefully situates the towel in front of the basin so that it rests without any wrinkle. I turn back to Miller.

"Brother S, you stand before us today, pledging your allegiance to the brotherhood of the High Honors Society," he begins, and my throat goes dry. I lower my eyes at his every word, absorbing the situation's every detail. So this is it…

"You are aware that we are a nationally ranked honor's society—and that our duties lie far beyond the archetypal societies of our time."

I nod.

"Brother S, once you pledge, you are aware that there is an immortal bond between you and your brothers which hence cannot be broken, and that your allegiance lies, first and foremost, with the High Honors Society. That no other man shall contest your loyalty nor question your methods to keeping this sacred brotherhood a secret."

Again, I nod. "I'm aware."

Without breaking eye contact, Miller extends his hand to the left of him, to yet another member who has seemingly appeared from nowhere. Out of the corner of my eye, I spy a wrapped object, to which Miller seizes and places on the table nearby. "Come, brother," he invites.

I follow his directions and watch as Kyle and the others crowded around us step back. Miller steps on one side of the table, and he motions for me to stand on the other, so that the white towel is between us. Looking down, I notice that Miller is unwrapping what he had just sat down. The material looks velvet and smooth, and I begin to wonder what exactly members _do_ for their induction.

As Miller produces the object out of it's packaging, I feel my heart stop beating.

"Brother S," he continues. "As acting president and fellow member of High Honor's Society, I will now begin the process of induction. Please present your right hand."

Hesitantly, I extend my hand, unable to tear my eyes off of what Miller is gripping in _his_.

"Look at me Brother S," I hear him say, but my eyes stay where they are. I don't for one second want to take them away from the object he's holding. "Brother S," he repeats, and I gingerly lift my head away from the dagger, though the very idea is piercing through my mind. What is he planning to do?

"It is a rite of passage we have all gone through," he tells me, and for a second I almost hear a bit of sympathy in his voice. "Only look at me," he orders somewhat gently, and I swallow the throw up that's threatening its way up my throat.

My eyes flicker to the side, but I don't see Kyle. Dammit. Dammit! These are the times when I want to see the calm in his eyes, the comfort. I don't want to look only at Miller! Every cell in my body is demanding I wrench my hand away, demanding that I change my mind. That no club is worth anything that sharp gleam of metal has to do with.

Miller fingers the handle of the dagger, positioning it for whatever comes next. I can feel the sweat lining my hair, and I can feel the thumping of my heart as it slams against my chest. My body is all prepared for the flight portion of the fight-or-flight reaction. Just when I get the nerve to slowly move my hand back, Miller reaches out and grabs my wrist, turning it over so that my palm is facing upwards. He tightens his fingers around me and I glare at him. He looks back at me, unmoving, but he keeps a firm grip on my wrist.

He clears his throat slightly, and as if waiting for the mere sound, Kyle appears in my line of vision. Directly behind Miller where I can see him.

I feel my body relax, and I release a slow exhale. The things I do for that guy…

"With eyes on me, repeat the pledge…and try to move your hand as little as possible," he adds. And that's when I see it. That glint in the corner of his eye. The one that lets me know he's enjoying this. I _knew_ the bastard wasn't sorry. Narrowing my eyes at him upon this realization, I feel my entire arm flinch. Miller looks up at me, scolding me with his eyes. Just as quickly as he looks up, his eyes dart downwards, and he slides his hand underneath mine. With his other hand, he relaxes the blade of the dagger into the loose skin between my thumb and index finger. He presses it down, watching with slight amusement as it slices into the first layer of skin.

"Ah!" I cry out upon contact and force my jaw back down. I grind my teeth together and use every bit of energy I have not to cry out further. "Mhm!" I moan out harshly as my lips pucker inward. I clench my left arm to my side, willing it to stay where it is while trying to command the rest of my body not to flee.

The blade has well made its way into my skin, and I can't imagine looking at my hand. The feel of the cool metal invading the crease of my palm sends waves of shock and pain throughout my entire body. I try to keep still, but my body refuses and it shivers slightly, telling me, SCREAMING at me to move my hand.

As my heart rate increases once more, I take in deep painful breaths. Gulping in air and gasping as if it's my oxygen that's been taken away. Throughout my ordeal of pain, trying to remain still, and keeping eye contact with Miller a whisper floats through and reaches my ears…it starts out low, but I remember the directions from earlier, I know what it's asking of me.

Repeat the pledge.

So swallowing the gathering saliva, and trying to get a grip on my nerve endings I say the words I remember hearing months ago.

"Now and forever society is true…"

"Brothers together, we'll see the end through…"

"Hail to the high honors…" I have to pause to take in a gulp of air. "Amen Amen…"

"Hail to the Founders, Our Fathers, High Honors…"

"Keeping the Word, Pledging the faith…"

"Eternal bond, Death," Miller pauses and my eyes widen and I gasp in surprise at the feel of him tightening his grip around my hand. Lodging the dagger further into my palm than it already is. "UGN!" I swear out and whip my head to the side, biting my lip and tasting the blood from there. "Does not separate," he finishes and relaxes the pressure. Repeating his words I slowly turn my watering eyes back to him, still breathing in hard, and now starting to feel a bit on the light headed side.

I blink lazily, trying to keep my focus on my "leader". He pries open my injured hand and releases the blade, placing it on the table. As my hand continues to bleed onto the towel below, the member who carried in the basin quickly grabs the dagger, dipping it into the liquid. I watch as he washes my blood clean from the sharp edge like I'm witnessing this event from someone else's point-of-view. I take a deep breath and swallow, trying to regain some sort of composure about what just happened.

"Congratulations, Brother S," Miller says with little celebration. "You are a member of High Honor's Society, JV chapter." He leans over and pulls me back to vertical, as I can feel myself slipping backwards. "Do you care to make a speech?"

I plant a firm foot behind me, forcing me to stay in one spot long enough to turn to the crowd. Before doing so, however, Miller snatches the towel from below me and begins to harshly blot my hand dry. I allow him this privilege of cleaning me up while I look onwards at the many faces I now know and can (but won't) call my brothers.

"Thank you," I state simply. "Thank you for believing in me." I'm saying this mostly to the guys I know truly deserve it—Kyle, Marc, Jack…but I'm also saying it to those who blindly recruited me. Even when they knew how much I despised them. That's an impressive loyalty that I hope to withhold to them as the years go on.

I turn back to Miller, letting him know that I'm finished. He nods once and gives me the towel, leaving me to mend myself. Shortly after, he walks away. Kyle rushes over to me and gives me a meaningful hug. I return the favor.

"You okay?" he mutters to me and though I'm not—I mean, I just had a dagger carved into my hand—I nod to reassure him. He smiles in relief and I give him one back before turning my attention back to Miller who is now addressing the crowd once more.

"With Brother S having successfully completed one of our most sacred rituals, I would like everyone to join me in welcoming him into the strongest brotherhood the likes of which he has never seen."

He turns his head to smirk at me, inclining his head in an almost nod of welcome, but it might not have been that at all knowing his personality. His reaction doesn't matter to me though. What does is the eruption of cheers, whistles, and clapping that comes from the HHS members. There's a sudden surge forward as they all seem to rise to their feet together and abandon the seats they had been occupying.

I sigh in relief at the sight of Marc and Jack leading the group. Kyle and I are gently squashed together as I'm slapped on the back and on the shoulder by more people than I can count. I can't contain the smile on my face and I do my best to ignore the stinging in my hand. I can't help but to feed off their excitement for me.

"How's the hand? Hurt like hell?" Jack asks, grinning as he practically yells over the cheers.

I grin at him and nod my head, mockingly glaring at him, Marc, and Kyle. "Like a bitch," I smirk. "It would have been nice to have been told this was going to happen in advance."

"That's against the rules," Marc says slyly. "Besides it's something we all had to endure. Though you were quite impressive at handling it, Jack screamed like a baby," he finishes with a chuckle, and I laugh right along, all while listening to Jack's protests that he did no such thing.

I turn to Kyle once again, who's beaming like an underprivileged mother whose son just graduated from law school. I almost think he's about to ruffle my hair affectionately, but thank God he just squeezes my shoulders instead. I lean over and give him a kiss in the middle of it all. By now, anyone who knows me or knows Kyle knows we're together. And so far, no one's had a problem with it. And I don't think anyone ever will.

"Knock it off guys, this is a public place," I hear Jack whine through a smile.

Kyle and I break apart and I find more and more faces swarming around us—and I'm the central hub of it all. I lose track of the new faces that match names I've heard before. This brotherhood is quite a bit more extensive than what I had originally thought. There seem to be even more guys in here than there were for Jason's branding ceremony! Could it be that they all wanted to be here to celebrate with me? In honor of my induction? Nah, I'm probably just feeling overwhelmed right now, that's all.

"Stan," a familiar voice rings out over the crowd, echoing high above the endless chatter. I acknowledge its owner with a raise of my brow.

"Stan," Miller voices again. I guess the formalities of Brother S and Brother M are disregarded at the after-party. Is that what this is?

I feel Kyle push me in Miller's direction. "He must need to talk to you," he informs me, and I reluctantly travel away from the circle of friends and loved ones I'm comfortable around to stand near the one person I'll never like.

"Miller," I say with a nod of my head, unsure of why he's singling me out like this. Maybe this is protocol for the newest member of the HHS.

"One moment," he says. "As president, it's my duty to personally welcome you…and," he pauses. "Offer my assistance to you in any way should you need it."

I give him a look. "Uh, no thanks. If I need help you'll be the last person I turn to." It's blunt and harsh, but there's no point in us pretending to be allies if we aren't.

Miller doesn't bother to hide his sneer and I see little reason not to glare back at him. "I'll remind you Stan that you may be a member of this Society, but I am and always will be your president."

"Doesn't mean I have to like you," I respond and clutch my hand when it suddenly stings. "Don't think I didn't feel you pressing that damn blade into my hand harder than was necessary."

"Though I have no idea what you're talking about, how do you know what sort of pressure was necessary?" He questions back, but that innocent bullshit doesn't fool me for a second.

I shake my head in disgust, "Whatever, I'm through with you. We may be in the same club, and you may be the president, but you're not _my_ president. And when it's all said and done I have the one thing you'll never have."

"Oh?" He looks disbelieving. "And what's that? I'm the star pitcher you so foolishly hoped to be, I'm the leader of a great society, and the idol of most, if not all, of it's members. What could you possibly have that I never will?"

I study my hand for a second before I loll my head to the side where Kyle is standing amongst our more mutual friends. He's smiling and laughing along with him, but as if he feels me looking at him, he glances over and beams at me. It radiates warmth inside me that soothes away any hostility I was just feeling, and gives me courage I never knew I had.

Turning back to Miller I give him my most genuine smile, which startles him from the look of it. "I got the guy," I say simply and excuse myself to return to said guy.

Upon reaching Kyle, I lay yet another smacker right on his lips forcefully. Kyle bends backwards in surprise, causing me to wrap my uninjured hand around his waist to keep him from falling. Squinting my eyes open slightly, I can feel Miller's glare penetrating into Kyle and I's bond, and it causes me to kiss my boyfriend even deeper. I know its childish and unnecessary—after all, I think I've proven my point—but my relationship with Kyle seems that much sweeter knowing that Miller never really stood a chance. I catch myself laughing into Kyle's mouth, to which he pulls away.

"You're delirious," he guesses, because at this point, all of the guys that were once surrounding us have looked away in favor of conversation with less affectionate friends.

Kyle steadies himself upright again and grabs _my_ back as I feel myself stumble. Dammit, maybe he's right.

"You've soaked that towel through, Stan," he tells me, lifting my hand to inspect the damage and showing off his caring side. He smiles warmly at me and pulls me toward the table where I was initiated into the club. "I'll get you all bandaged up."

I nod, suddenly feeling lightheaded. Perhaps it's the power of suggestion, but as I look down to my hand I realize that I _am_ losing a lot of blood. Kyle parts the hoards of people now congregating once again until he's reached the table. He spins around on his heels, looking into my eyes. "Wait here. You can use the table to hold yourself up if you feel faint."

"I don't feel faint," I tell him.

He eyes me suspiciously before yelling for Jack and Marc to come over. They do, and he disappears. I've all but seen stars and psychedelic colors when he returns, carrying a bandage in his left hand. I hold out my hand and he takes it, dressing it up neatly and expertly, as if he's done something like this before. When he's done, I stare at it, marveling on what a great job he's done.

I can feel him looking at me. "Want to get out of here?" he quietly asks.

I focus my attention on his lips. Did he really just ask me that? Kyle? Wants to ditch the HHS? In favor of doing what!

"Hell yeah!" I almost yell out, causing a bit of attention to return our way. Smiling sheepishly, I press my head into his shoulder in slight embarrassment. "I didn't mean to be so loud," I mutter as I feel him rub my back gently.

He chuckles lightly and brushes his mouth along my ear. "That's okay. I'm happy to hear you're so excited."

The breath of Kyle's voice sends a little chill down my body and I pull away so that we can leave together. A few feet away I'm met with Marc and Jack's feral grins.

"Leaving your own reception so soon?" Jack asks.

"We've got other things to do Jack," Kyle says as he starts to walk away, pulling me in tow. "But don't you guys stop the get together for our sakes."

"We'll keep it going. You take care of our newest member," Marc says, and as I look over my shoulder to wave at them, I see Marc give a wink before turning back to Jack and entering a conversation with a few other members.

"Was he winking at you or me?" I ask curiously as Kyle continues to pull me along.

"It doesn't matter," I hear him say, and I decide it doesn't.

Before leaving the building we discard of our HHS garb in favor of ordinary college clothes to set out across the campus quad. Kyle seems to be rushing and in my lightheaded state I'm finding it a little hard to keep up with him. When he said he wanted to get out of there, I had no idea he was this eager. And not that I'm not, but… "Kyle could you slow down a bit? I'm getting kinda dizzy walking this fast." He slows down without a word, the night trees and passing buildings becoming less blurry as he does so.

He continues to hold tight to my uninjured hand as we finally reach Windermere and we climb the steps to our home of about four and a half months.

Jesus, you'd think I'd lost a pint of blood or something with the way I'm so tired, and Kyle and I haven't done anything yet…not that he's wasting even a second to start. Once the door's locked he's gently rested me against it as he worms his hands under my shirt, shimming it up and over my head, being careful of my bandaged hand.

"Kyle…wha?" I start to ask but am stopped when he pushes his lips onto mine.

"Hush," he mutters and I do as he says. He breaks our kiss and bends down, taking a firm hold of my waistband as he goes. I can hardly contain the moan in the back of my throat at just watching him lower himself. I close my eyes in contentment as he unlatches my belt and slowly pulls down my jeans. I make a movement to lift my legs in order to kick them aside.

Kyle's stood back up the second I've done so and I look at him a little surprised. Instead of doing what I figured he was going to do, he urges me forward with his hand and pulls me down onto his bed. It's cute. He's never cared before if we made it to the bed or not. But I guess this _is_ a special night.

As he pushes me onto my back, he climbs on top so that he's hovering above me. Leaning down to nip at my neck, my ears, my chest…ugh God, he's trailing his lips down my chest. He continues to make them light and airy, and just as I imagine he's reached a rather good destination, I hear him laugh lightly before he leans back up and plants one soundly on my lips.

"You need to get some rest," he mutters and pulls away from me, only to turn and land directly to my left, on his side.

"-Zwha?" I question intelligently and he laughs again.

"I said you need to get some rest."

I turn my head to look at him surprise. "Are you serious?" I manage out.

"Yes," his eyes narrowly in concern. "You look a bit pale. You really did lose a lot of blood, more than I've ever seen. And your cut for some reason looked deeper than anyone else's has."

"I knew it!" I blurt out, throwing my head up violently and feeling the effects that Kyle had mentioned.

"You poor thing," he whispers, reaching out to my head and laying it gently back down onto the pillow. "Rest up, and I'll be right here when you wake up. I'm not done with you yet." His words are mischievous and his smile is contagious. I find myself extending a grin from ear to ear.

I lean into the curvature of his hand and close my eyes. "I can't argue with that."

"Good. Then sleep, Stan. You deserve it."

"Mmhmm," I mumble, feeling myself slip into slumber quicker than expected. Kyle's constant breath on my neck is enough to lull me into a deep rest, complete with intoxicating dreams of he and I going on many more camping trips together. Or sneaking off in the middle of the night together. Even if we were just going to a meeting, there's something intimate about that setting. And we could always take a detour afterwards.

What about next year? Where will we live? It'd be a fucking dream to live in the Main St house with Marc, Jack, and Kyle. I wonder if we'll be able to pull it off. I'm just a newbie—will I really be able to get that much power?

I feel Kyle press up against me as I'm sleeping, his fingers grazing my upper body delicately. I can feel him lay a sweet pattern of kisses all around and embrace me tightly. It all feels like a dream. Having Kyle here, being here with him…it's a fantasy that's come true, and I'm so thankful. I don't think I've ever been happier.

I belong here, with him, like this. It's something I've wanted for so long and I wonder if it's fair that I'm so lucky. I haven't done anything extraordinary in life, I didn't find the cure for AIDS, I didn't provide the answers for world peace and yet my life now is so perfect. What did I do to deserve this? To deserve him, and all the amazing friends I've made since I've been here?

The last conscious thing I remember is his soft fingers caressing my throat as his smooth lips follow suit with their warm soothing air. As he bites a bit of my skin carefully I swear I hear him mutter, "you'll die before I let you leave me."

But that could have been my imagination.

I think because of my blood loss my dreams are warped and extremely abstract. They don't make a lot of sense and on some level they frighten me, but every time I feel a creeping chill, warm hands envelope me, pulling me close toward safety. Coming to a conscious state, I sigh contentedly and try to fight off the feeling of waking up. There's a nagging feeling in my head though, and as I try to turn to ignore it, I find myself stuck. Or more correctly, I find one arm stuck.

"Mhm," I mutter out and slowly open my eyes, so as not to be overwhelmed with the morning light. The room is somewhat blurry and not that bright, but it's clearly morning. As I move to run the sleep out of my eyes I find that one arm, the same arm that belongs to the injured hand, refuses to budge. "What the…" I grumble and fully open my eyes, gasping slightly at the sight before me. Kyle's perched two inches from my face and he's running a hand over my hair as he brushes my bangs from my face.

"Morning, sweet," he whispers and closes our very short gap, kissing me senseless. I respond by instinct alone and he groans loudly into our shared kiss, making each and every part of my body wake up. Wanting to rush a hand through his curls I find I'm unable…and finally my confusion sets in. I press my head into the pillow, even going as far to turn my head away. "Where do you think you're going?" he asks gruffly.

"I'm just-" I start, then stop and allow my jaw to drop even though I'm lying horizontal on my bed. "Kyle?" I ask slowly and keep my eyes and head to the side, away from his alluring scent.

"Hm?" he questions, probably not even listening.

"Kyle, why is my hand tied up?" I ask quite bluntly given the circumstances, and Kyle halts in his attentions to my torso and face.

He rises slowly and for the first time I notice he's completely without clothing…and for that matter, so am I. Though I distinctively remember having my boxers on, and him being fully dressed when I fell asleep.

Smiling at me, he adjusts his position so that his body is no longer halfway leaning over me. Rather he climbs completely on top of me, and I swallow an extremely large lump as I watch every curve of his body and how he finally rests himself on top of my torso. "I was being helpful," he finally says calmly.

I'm trying my best to focus on the fact that one of my arms is tied to the corner bedpost by rope, which (where the hell did he get rope from) is holding tight to my wrist…_rather_ than every movement he's making against my chest.

"Helpful…how exactly?" I manage out as he adjusts himself slightly.

"Well..." he glances at the wall thoughtfully. "You have a tendency to grip things in the heat of the moment. Me, the bed sheets, the lamp..." he chuckles lightly. "I didn't want you to injure your already cut hand," he says simply and leans over to kiss my hand gently before resting back on top of me.

I open my mouth for a rebuttal, but quickly snap my jaw shut. What the hell am I even doing questioning his motives? He told me he wasn't through with me yet, and I fully intend to get rewarded for my good deed of joining his club.

"Have you been up this whole time?" I question as he grins wildly at me, as if he's preparing a not-so-sneaky attack. His fingertips begin to draw little patterns on my bare chest and he lifts his body and leans up again, I guess to make sure the rope is secured tight enough.

I blink to adjust my vision and lift my usable arm to push him back down to my view. He squeezes his thighs together, and I feel every one of his muscles flex on my legs. I grunt in response. "Kyle…" I protest weakly.

"You are fucking amazing, Stan," he praises. "Do you honestly think I plan on letting you out of my sight this morning?"

"I-" I begin, feeling his hands skim my sides until he finds the area that always tickles. I twitch instead, to which he buckles his body down even firmer.

"Now shut up. You're distracting me."

"I'm distracting you?" I repeat, dumbfounded at his aggression. Kyle is usually the dominator, but I've never seen him as heated as he is now. He leans in, deliberately pressing his dick against me, and bites my lip to stop me from talking. I squirm, wanting my hand to be free. I take advantage of the other one, running my hand down the side of his back and grabbing hold of his clenched backside.

Reaching behind him, he seizes my free hand and slams it down on the bed beside me. "I haven't given you your present yet," he informs me before pressing his lips passionately against mine.

I pull my head away, breathless and more turned on than I've ever felt in my entire life. "I get a present?"

"You won't if you keep talking," he answers in a low voice.

With that, I succumb completely to his advances. He nips at my neck and creates a seductive swirl pattern with his tongue around my skin, all while he's holding both of my arms down. I writhe with pleasure, unable to handle the lack of my appendages. I feel his body slide up and down on mine as he continues to flirt with my neck, ears, throat, and chest.

Suddenly, he releases my arm, and I all but attack him with a pent up force I didn't know I had. My other arm starts to burn, like I'm trying to yank it out of its socket, but as Kyle drops his entire body to below my navel, I lose interest in that sensation in favor of a new one.

I hiss as his hand closes around my erection and begins pumping at a euphoric rhythm. I drop my head back into the pillow and close my eyes, letting my body be overtaken by the intense pleasure I feel every time he touches me. It's like a pulse of energy shooting through my veins upon contact, and I contract my stomach muscles, unable to withstand the intensity. His warm breath and succulent lips poised just right make me want to scream out.

"Fuck Kyle," I breathe as he kisses and bites my thighs. I clench every muscle from my chest on down and buck my hips, wanting so badly to be freed.

I crack an eye open and lower my vision southwards just in time for him to meet my eyes. He waggles his eyebrows once and lifts his head a bit. "Already?" The grin on his face is obvious. "You don't like to waste much time, do you Stan."

I dip my uninhibited shoulder down to scoop him up to my level again to kiss him. That's not exactly what I meant, but I think I might explode if we waste another minute on his taunting.

Kyle drops back down and continues to pump with one hand. The other hand musters all his strength to push me up near the head of the head. I scoot up at his body's demand, and he settles down on top of me. My body folds like an accordion and my arm stays limp as Kyle lifts my legs over his shoulder. He grips his own dick, preparing himself.

I grit my teeth as he pushes in, allowing myself the time to relax before we continue. It's the same old routine as every day only this time, there's something more. Kyle is even more passionate, if that's possible. I can feel him inside of me, and not just physically. I close my eyes and feel a deeper connection—one that holds no boundaries. His force field is down. He's himself again.

Long after I've lost feeling in my arm, Kyle is still thrusting into me, an unforgettable gleam in his eyes. I didn't know it meant _this_ much to him, but I am definitely thankful I've made him happy too. I could get used to him expressing his thanks.

When we're both spent, Kyle makes a move to pull out and fall to my side, but I reach out with my available arm and stop him from leaving.

"Just…" my voice comes out slightly haggard and breathless. "Just stay there for a second."

He smiles down at me, but a feral grin starts to form on his face again. "If you say it like that I'll just get hard again."

I give him a weak smile back before pulling him closer so that he's resting on my chest. His face firmly planted against the crook of my neck. "Stan?" he questions and I shush him as I trail a few fingers behind his neck, fingering the bottom tips of his hair.

For some reason I really want to take in this moment. I never want to forget it. What it felt like after Kyle and I were together for the first time since I've joined the HHS. I don't want to think of what I've lost by joining. I want to think of what I've gained and this body above me, still resting inside me is my biggest prize.

As I move to wrap both my arms around him as he continues to breathe quietly, the mood is suddenly broken. Which is okay, since there'll be others.

"Kyle?" I ask, finding my voice and hearing its hardened tone. "You can take the rope off me now."

Kyle raises his head to look down at me, amusement dancing in his eyes. Finally pulling out, he leans over and begins to pull at the complex ties of the rope. He loosens up the ends and then unwinds it from the bedpost. My hand falls down and I instantly cradle it, wincing at its new appearance. Kyle was right about one thing. I DO have a tendency to grip things in the heat of the moment, and being tied to the side of the bed didn't change my hands instincts to want to do so. There's a bright red angry burn around my wrist from my constant tugging against the coarse fiber.

I glare at my boyfriend as he gets himself up. Seeing my glare, he leans down and gives me a chaste kiss on the forehead before smiling again.

"Guess you'll have to wear long sleeves for awhile huh?" He smirks, not even apologizing.

"Guess I'll have to invest in a new wardrobe," I bite back. "At this rate the only skin I'll be able to show is my face."

"That's fine, no one besides me needs to see anything else."

I give him a pained look. "You know," I start and watch as he slowly dresses himself. I know he's giving me a bit of show as I continue to rest on the bed. "The possessive thing is only hot every once in awhile. Don't think I didn't see the looks you gave people when they were only going to give me a friendly pat on the shoulder of congrats last night."

"You can never be sure," he says disinterestedly.

"Tone it down Ky," I demand. As much as I love the guy, I don't exactly love him scaring away people who come in close contact with me.

He holds my eye contact for a while before he turns away. I'm not sure if he's agreed.

"I'll go get us some breakfast," he says and I sigh internally. I don't think I got through to him. Oh well, I'll keep pestering him about it later.

"Get me some waffles," I say, realizing that's what I'm craving. "And some sausage…" I say as an afterthought. "Oh and actually, what I think I really want is some-"

"Stan," he interrupts me. "I know your stomach. I know to get you a lot of everything."

Laughing, I realize how true that is. I stop abruptly when I notice Kyle is slipping on his jacket. "Wait you're not going to go to the cafeteria now, are you?"

"Why not?"

"Well because!" I protest. "You probably look…and you probably smell…dude, take a shower first!"

Kyle looks confused, but only for a second, and when the confusion is gone he bursts out laughing. Which…surprises me. Kyle hasn't laughed like that in…ages. "You mean I reek of sex?" He asks with a raised eyebrow and I redden accordingly. "Yeah, you're probably right," he says looking down at himself. "Okay, I'll pop in the showers real quick and then I'll head to get us some food. Better?"

"Much," I nod.

I study him as he sheds the clothes he put on only minutes before. He wastes no time in pulling on a pair of gym shorts, grabbing a towel, and slipping on some shower shoes. He turns so that his back faces me, and it occurs to me that he no longer tries to hide that crest of his. In fact, I've seen him walk around without a shirt on now more than ever. Is he getting careless, or is it because I was the only one he was trying to hide it from? And if so, is there really something _to_ earning one of those? Something he's ashamed of?

His waggling eyebrows divert my thoughts. "Feel free to stay exactly the way you are until I get back."

I grin at his suggestion. "Kyle that will defeat the purpose of you showering. Go," I tell him, shooing him with my hand and walking over to the door. I issue him a brief goodbye kiss before he opens the door and I duck behind it. Through the crack in the door, I see him sling his towel over his shoulder upon entering the hallway, thus completely covering up his branding.

I close the door behind him and search the room for some clean shorts. All of mine seemed to have mysteriously vanished. Sighing, I run over to Kyle's drawer and climb into a pair of his navy blue track pants, the kind that button up the sides. Then I attempt to finger through my hair so it doesn't look like I just weathered a violent storm. I know I probably smell and look like a train wreck, but at this point, the only person who's going to see me is Kyle. And he's the one who made me this way.

"Get your smelly ass out of my sweatpants." I whirl around just in time to see Kyle slam the door, strip off his clothes, and stand there, buck naked. I look at him unsurely, wondering if he's serious because he doesn't want me to dirty his clothes, or because he wants me out of clothes for good.

Another three seconds gives me my answer. And another forty minutes later, Kyle is finally on his way to go get us something to eat.

I throw my head back in exhaustion at the sound of the door latching shut. Taking a few deep breaths, I decide it best to not budge until I can feel all of my limbs again. Just as I settle into a comfortable relaxation of absolutely no movement whatsoever, my phone lights up with a familiar tune. I lift my head to connect where the sound is coming from and see my phone on the floor, just below Kyle's nightstand. I stretch out over the bed and drop my palms to the ground, walking my hands out to the damn noisemaker. I grab it and stare into the display, deciding to pick up.

"I'm not interrupting anything am I, Stan?" Kenny asks.

I grunt noisily in reply and climb back up into bed.

"Good, cause I'd hate to ever do that," he replies huskily.

"Hey Kenny," I manage as I settle into Kyle's warm bedspread. "To what do I owe this glorious surprise?"

"Since when is a phone call a surprise? I just wanted to make sure you haven't died and forgot to tell me or something."

I laugh at his comment. "I'm fine, I've just been pretty busy."

To this, Kenny huffs. "Tell Kyle he has to learn how to share. You can't ignore your other friends _all_ the time. That's just rude."

"I'm not ignoring you," I protest, though I realize it may be somewhat untruthful. I haven't spoken to Kenny in months. Not since I've been getting involved with the HHS. Part of me has avoided him simply because I know he's affiliated with Austin. It's not like Kenny would give a damn about what I decide.

"Because I'm always in your thoughts, is that it?" he fires back. "Stanley, I know you better than that. How the hell are you?"

I shrug. "Pretty good. And you?"

"Can't complain. Austin keeps me on my toes. He's got a different goddamn conspiracy theory every day. I enjoy the entertainment."

I laugh again. Looks like it wasn't just JV doing it to him. "That sounds like Austin."

I can hear Kenny smile, and it saddens me. I suddenly regret avoiding him. He's one of my best friends. "But we miss you, man. I don't wait by the phone for you to call or anything, but I would appreciate a check up every now and then. Just so I know you haven't fallen to the dark side."

I choke on nonexistent spit and force a chuckle. "Yeah."

Kenny pauses, and somehow I know that bastard knows. He's just intuitive with things like that. "So you and Kyle doing good then, I bet," he continues conversation as if there is some sort of nonverbal agreement not to talk about what he just found out.

"Better than ever," I admit.

"I figured…" his voice trails off. "Well, Austin wants to say a few words too, so I'll hand the phone over to him. You take care, Stan. Don't be a stranger."

"Yeah," I say noncommittally.

"I said, don't. Be. A. Stranger." At this he suddenly lowers his voice. "I'll make sure Austin is out if you ever want to swing by."

"Ken," I say with a strain in my voice.

"Hey it was inevitable really," he says, cutting me off. "When one of you jumps the other isn't too far from doing the same. Just know I'll still be around holding your life line, okay?"

I nod. I know he can't see it, but it's Kenny so he'll understand nevertheless.

"Alright give your significant other a big wet one from me. I'm gonna hand the phone over to Austin now. The guy's practically humping me to get to the phone," he says, his voice louder.

"I am NOT!" I hear Austin's distinct voice in the background and a smile has already formed on my face as I hear the sounds of the phone being passed from one friend to another. "I was not practically humping him," is the first thing Austin says to me and I chuckle at that.

"I didn't think you were," I tell him honestly.

"Anyway, dude how're you doing?" He asks, his tone softens into concern, and I bite my lip at the thought.

"I'm good, doing good…what about you and Ken? You guys seem to be getting along even more so than a few months ago." I question, rushing to change the subject far from me and how and what I've been doing as of late.

Austin snorts, but I can tell its all for show. I know he and Ken have hit it off more than I would have thought possible. But at the same time I had always thought they were similar…in different degrees of course, but similar nonetheless.

"We're fine, though I'm still trying to get used to his…lets call them quirks."

"Ah," I state knowingly. "Has he told you all about the guacamole parliament?"

"…The what?" Austin asks puzzled and I shake my head, laughing as I imagine his face.

"Then you don't know the half of his quirks. But you'll get there," I say, grinning into the phone.

"I wonder if I want to know," he muses, and after that statement is when a lull in conversation holds. At first I feel slightly awkward about it—that is until I realize that it's Austin hesitating about something.

"What is it?" I ask him curiously.

He's still hesitating and if I could see him I'd bet he was exchanging looks with Kenny right now. And I'll bet Kenny is silently urging him on.

"What?" I ask again.

"Danny called me a few weeks back," he finally states and I suddenly find myself holding my breath. I never had called Austin about Jason's departure. I also never told Jason Austin's number…so I wonder how he got it. "And…Stan how come you never told me he left JV?"

"I…it slipped my mind," I answer pathetically. It honestly had slipped my mind with everything that had happened those weeks after Jason had left. "How's he doing, I haven't talked to him since he left."

"He's okay…he's a bit…I don't know…off, I guess since having left. I think he's still coming to terms with what Miller did. But anyway, the point is we're talking again. Things are a little strained though, but it's weird because in a way I'm slowly getting my best friend back."

"What am I, chopped liver!" I hear Kenny scream directly into the phone, releasing the tension that has built up around the sudden topic shift. And though he may be joking, I think part of Kenny might be serious about this. He never gets to be the best friend—he's always the awesome guy who's around…for the lifeline, like he said. I suddenly feel sad again.

"Austin," I begin, my courage trailing off the minute I address him. But it's too late. I've got his attention already.

"Yeah?" he asks hopeful.

"I…I'm glad you two are talking again. It means a lot to me. It means a lot to him too, this much I can tell." I hear Austin sigh, but I continue. "And…dude I wouldn't have even given him a chance to be my friend if you hadn't left. I think that was when it all started changing."

"What all started changing?" he questions, and I bite my lip from having said too much. Austin will catch on to anything now—his ears are like a radar trying to pick up on HHS-related practice.

"Well, you know…my friendship with Danny. We really opened up to each other after you were gone and I got to see the guy he was before Miller tainted him."

Austin chuckles. "Still loving that Miller I can tell."

I growl. "I will hate the bastard until the day I die. But…he doesn't bother me all that much anymore."

"How come?"

I shrug. "Because he will never win me over." Shaking my head, I stray from Miller and the HHS. "But anyway it's great to hear about you and Danny. But don't forget about Ken. Between you and me, I think he needs someone to love him too."

"Stan, don't try to spread your gay on me. We all know where that ends up. Speaking of, had anymore encounters with a vacuum lately?"

"SHUT UP!" I yell into the phone through laughter. I miss Austin. I really do. "That was _one _time."

"That I know of. And anyway, I told you already that I'm happy for you." His pitch shifts and suddenly he darkens with seriousness. "Is Kyle still hopelessly devoted to that cult we don't speak of?"

"…Yes," I answer hesitantly.

"And what about you?"

"We've…worked it out," I answer, trying my best to dodge the question.

If I could see Austin, I swear he's nodding with the kind of understanding that will result in the end of our friendship. "Well…good for you, Stan. I'm happy you two are together."

"Thanks, man."

There is a long pause of silence in which the both of us are coming to terms with what we now know.

He's the first to speak up. "I really must be going. Kenny's cooking me a meal tonight in honor of our second month of living together. Even though that happened four weeks ago. He says he's behind. I can't complain, its free food."

"Kenny's not a half-bad cook either," I note, feeling pangs of envy in my stomach. "Enjoy."

"I will. And Stan…I'm really glad I got to know you. Thanks for being there for me."

The finality of that statement gives me the shivers. But we both have to face reality. The time of the Stan and Austin reign is over. And though it could be a sad occasion, we are both happy in the paths we've chosen to take. Even so, I can't help but miss my old friend.

"You too, Austin. See you later," I finish, knowing full well that won't be happening.

"Yeah. Later, Stan. Good luck." And with that, the line goes dead. I turn to face the display and see the minutes flashing in my eyes. It takes me a few moments to absorb my past conversation, and it's at that point that I hear the door click open. Kyle has returned with much-needed and wanted fuel.

He's balancing four Styrofoam take out boxes in one hand as he steps into the door. I stand up, brushing my nose slightly as I pick up two of them to help him out. I can tell he's about to express his thanks before I notice something in his eye glint. As I turn to set the boxes on my desk I listen as he closes the door before quickly grabbing a hold of my good wrist.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

"Nothing," I say automatically. I watch as his eyes narrow in disbelief. They slide away from me and I see as they absorb everything in our dorm room, as if they're looking for something. And they must have found it. His eyes stop movement and I turn my head around to see what his eyes have landed on. My cell phone.

"Who were you talking to?" he asks just as to the point as he did before.

I hesitate and I almost tell him it was no one. But that's too much of a bold face lie. Instead I think its better to say it was just my mom, checking up on me, but staring at the phone…I can't do that.

"Kenny…and Austin," I say.

The hand holding my wrist drops as he looks back and searches my eyes.

"How's Kenny?"

I nod, "good. It's Kenny after all. And he wants me to give you a big wet kiss, by the way."

Neither of us moves and Kyle knows that I have no intention of doing such a thing, even if it is in Ken's honor. I can tell he's more interested with the other person I talked with. But he doesn't want to ask. He hates Austin too much to want to ask, but he's curious.

"Why was Kenny hanging out with him?" He questions as he emphasizes the word him.

"They're roommates," I bluntly inform Kyle. His eyebrows rise in surprise, though I feel no need to tell him anything more concerning that. "We were just saying our goodbyes as you walked in."

"Goodbyes?"

"Yeah, after all we both got what we wanted in the end. We're happy in our separate worlds. We'll be fine…even without each other."

I watch as Kyle puts down the Styrofoam boxes before gripping the sides of my arms tightly. "Really? You'll be fine without each other?"

"'Course," I say though I find it a little hard to say. "I've got you, don't I?"

Kyle continues to stare intently at me. Maybe he's waiting for me to change my mind, to take what I said back. But I don't and eventually he pulls me toward him in a bone-crushing hug. "That's right," he says softly. "You've got me, and you don't need anything or anyone else." At that my stomach rumbles and Kyle pulls away slightly so we both can get a good look at my stomach.

"I might need food too," I say thoughtfully and he grins and lets out a sigh of…it sounds like relief, before he releases me and grabs his boxes.

"Like I told you when I left, I come baring A LOT of everything," he says and we settle down on our bed, in our dorm room, to eat our meal. Together.

-

"I must admit I was quite surprised to see you have made it this far. But, as would happen with any other member, when you reach a certain calibration of Excellency, we reward you with our second highest honor. And your day has come, brother," Miller begins more to me than to anyone else in the room, even though all eyes are on my shirtless torso and quivering stomach. Just because I've reached this point doesn't mean I want to go through with it. I've been in this situation before when I witnessed my first meeting. I _know_ what comes next.

Miller turns to address the crowd. "My brothers, Brother S is here today because of the strengths and skills he possesses as an Architect. Here in the society, we seek roles for every lifelong member." I sigh as I recall the exact line being used at Jason's ceremony. This solidifies my suspicions that Miller says the same thing for each guy, replacing only the appropriate letter. "Not long ago we suffered a tragic loss with the disappearance of our beloved architectural member, Brother J." I scoff at his choice of words. "But Brother S has proven that he can not only fill the empty shoes, but he can also overcome an insurmountable amount of odds to get himself there. And with such remarkable dedication too. You are hereby granted into the elite cluster of the Architect Brothers before us."

I take a big gulp and look at my friends surrounding me. It's been only a month and one week to the day from my initiation ceremony, and we're all back celebrating in my honor for a different reason tonight. Tonight, I pledge a part of my physical being to this club that I've grown to recognize as my own.

To say that it's a fast acceptance into the higher ranks of the HHS would be an understatement. Other than Kyle (and Miller of course), NO ONE has received this honor in less than three months. It's just unheard of. But I guess I have an impressive resume for getting the job done, and I never quit a job half-assed. Plus it could have to do with the fact that my boyfriend has a lot of pull with the higher ups. Hell, he IS a higher up. In addition, this is the last Sunday meeting of the school year. Kyle and I decided it would be best to end my first semester with a bang.

Marc was speechless when I told him I had successfully completed what needed to be done in order to gain second rank status. Jack about shit a brick. They're still my boys, and I'll never ditch them for the anal suck-up crowd, but to know that I'll be somewhat of their superior is kind of cool.

I can't really see it as that though. If it weren't for Marc, I wouldn't even be standing here today. I'd be at home, cowering in shame from my failed grades for sure. But, thanks to him, I passed every exam with an A- or above, and I'm even lined up to take some advanced architect classes next year.

And if it weren't for Jack, I wouldn't feel like myself in the group. That guy walks, talks, and acts like me so much I think we're sharing the same brain sometimes. Even though I've lost a true friend in Austin, I've gained one and then some through Jack. I just wish I could've met him sooner.

"You have proven your loyalty to everything this society holds dear. You have given us your trust, and in turn we trust you with our darkest and most well kept secrets," Miller continues his spiel, and my concentration is brought back to the present. Miller ushers me beside him and the fire, where the coals are starting to burn a glowing amber hue. The fire poker rests on the side of the fireplace, and I lift my eyes to connect with Kyle's soothing green ones. He's standing with one hand positioned over the handle of the fire poker.

I'd love to say that what's about to happen is going to be painless. But I know that's a damn lie. It'll be just as hellish—if not more—than that piercing dagger through my palm. But I can relax just a little bit about it all, because I know it's not Miller who will be laying a finger on me this time. I found out just recently that the branding gets to be done by the member's most trusted brother. And that sure as fuck is not Miller for me. I grin weakly at Kyle as he picks the poker up and stirs it in the fire.

"Hesitations, Brother S?" Miller asks on cue.

Hesitations? When I had the initiation I had hesitations then…and while I don't like the look of that poker reddening against the flaming hot coals of the fire, it's weird, but I feel…calm. Do I have hesitations? Not on his fucking life. I know why I'm here, where I stand…I know what I'll have the skills to become. It won't be easy, but I have another goal in mind. If Miller can be the president, who's to say I cant one day be the same?

"Not at all," I tell him, giving him my best winning smile. He falters at it momentarily. I think I saw him wince, but he says nothing. Rather he nods his head sharply before gesturing toward Kyle.

My eyes instantly fall on him, not giving Miller a second thought or glance. Kyle holds out his free hand to me and I latch onto it instantly. Feeling the warmth, the hope, the security…the love of the gesture.

He pulls me toward him and situates himself so that his chest is just brushing my arm. I can feel his breath and his warmth. Being together with him has been no easy ride. He fought me so hard, or perhaps maybe it's me that was fighting. Either way I've done things here at Jackson Vanderbilt that I've done nowhere else.

After today is over I'll be going home in a week. Not just to see my parents who are starting to wonder at my health, but to see Kenny. I owe it to him, and to be perfectly honest, as necessary and as right as it felt to let go of Austin, I can't do the same for Kenny. But then after that I will return here to JV, back in my room with Kyle, and we'll spend the summer here together, with a handful of others.

I can't help but wonder how I'll hide the brand from Kenny. If I'll feel the need to do so. If I don't, he'll ask about it…and I wonder if I'll have the courage to tell him just what it is I had to do to get this coat of arms burnt onto my back, even if it is against policy to tell outsiders. But I don't think I'll be able to tell him. Not because of the rules, but because I wouldn't want to watch his reaction, to see his rarely serious eyes turn cold. I wouldn't want to be less in his eyes. He'd understand, but we'd never be as close.

When Kyle brushes his thumb over my cheek I realize my mind wandered off. He smiles at me, and I smile back, already hearing Marc's reaction at having my mind wander off even as a hot poker threatens its way toward my back.

But enough about other people. For once I do need to focus on the here and now. Kyle drops his hand from my cheek and I suddenly feel as he envelops me the best way he can with only one arm. That means it's coming. I'm sure about this, I am. Really.

But even so a thousand things flash in my mind. Kyle, Marc, Jack, and Eric…they all know why I'm doing this and respect me for it. But…Kenny, Austin, Danny, and my parents…they'd never fully understand. So as I close my eyes and feel the end of the poker hover above its mark, my mind screams. Am I sure? AM I SURE?!

Kyle's hold around me suddenly tightens and I feel as his head nuzzles the side of my ear. He knows I started to panic. As he breathes lightly into my ear and even bites the lobe lightly, lovingly, I release a very low sigh of contentment.

I close my eyes and feel as the embers sear my flesh. I take a deep breath, but have no reason to cry out. Kyle holds me tighter in his arms and, suddenly, the pain isn't so fierce. I know he'll be there when I open my eyes, and we'll be together. Forever.

Because I did this for him. It was always for him.

The End.

- **Indiana Beach Bum** and **Faery Goddyss**


End file.
